Permission To Scream
by Kiki-or-Coco
Summary: If winter was a bleak time of the year in no-where Texas, then this winter is set to be the most depressing yet. Claire and the gang must now fight again, but this time its shadows and night in a matrix of snow. With time running out and no means of escape could this be the beginning of the end? Vampire and human relations tested as both must come together to fight the unknown.
1. Chapter 1

I sit here grasping Shane's hand in both of my own, looking into my husbands' eyes I see the trace of fear that used to be a constant in our lives up until a couple of years ago. The bitter chill in the air, cuts at my skin as it whips around the room despite the tightly shut windows and the layer upon layer of blankets. It again comes to this, the fear of the unknown something seen from afar never as focused on destruction as it is now.

Amelie and Oliver sit heads close together, a conversation of breaths between them- a faint whisper of noise. Amelie's face is set in a mask, her hair piled high on her head in a crown with a pale pink suit fitted more to the sixties then twenty-first century America. They've been together a while now, and it really was the start of something new for Morganville but now… maybe there isn't going to be a Morganville to go back to.

It's been a whirlwind, and yet now we're trapped in the cold matrix of Morganville.

It started off just a normal day; I'd given blood with Shane, went to class and even stopped for a coffee in common grounds… that's where it all started. It was when I was collected our coffees, a women walked in wondering aloud about the weather. The sky outside was a wall of heavy white, making the air feel thick and heavy with every lungful. Winter in Morganville was on normal occasion chaotic winds that torment with every step and bite -yeah pun intended- any bare skin it has the ability to find. Its normally four weeks of heavy winter coats, awkwardly placed hats and scarves with knee high boots; until some random day the sun rises and the sidewalk is again steaming but not this year.

It was only after the woman's complaints that I felt a shiver down my spine, something unusual in the 'new' Morganville. Me and Shane walked home, gloved hands clasped together against the cold, the wind whipping so fiercely our eyes burned. It was just as Lot Street was coming into view that the snow started to fall, not the slight dusting of white that normally falls in this part of Texas, which has turned to slick ice by the next morning but a heavy rain of snow, flake after flake of white- that hit the ground and stuck- by the time me and Shane had made it to the gate the ground already had a coating thick enough to crunch under foot.

That night we'd all crowded onto a couch, mine and Eve's feet curled around each other's as we both laid against our men, watching some cheesy classic about high school romance. We were all already wrapped in afghans against the cold, sharing the precious heat we could find. At some point in the movie we'd all drifted off to sleep, waking only when a thump near our door echoed into the living-room startling us all awake. The room was dark, not midnight in the middle of nowhere dark but trapped in a bottomless pit dark.

It was when we looked out the bay window at the mountains of snow, piled high enough to graze the window panes; we saw it first. A shadow… a shadow prowling. The scream echoed then.

We've been trapped since in a blizzard…


	2. Chapter 2

Amelie's pov

The poisonous bullet of a pathetic scorn can kill just as well as the highly pledged killers… that's what I've learnt in my long thoroughly worn life. As a young fledging at my dear fathers' knee I became the mistress of secrets and lies, I learnt the hunger to rule and the feeling of overwhelming pleasure at seeing others fall at my feet- yet for now I realise that the pull of humanity isn't such a bad thing. Almost grounding in the sentiment of self-worth; a vampire is the inner hunger and carvings of the human vampirism possesses, something Fallon understood much too well. And that is what I see now, I see the overwhelming fear etched into the frozen faces of the many acquaintances surrounding me in this building.

Tomorrow I know all could change; I know that human and vampire alike need to go back to the stability of normal life; a natural disaster that has now turned supernatural- despite the distaste I feel of that term its impeccably fitting to the sheer unfathomable nature of what has become a torment of the town I've nurtured as a mother would a child… an errant child at that.

I look now at the once crucial paperwork, that was as much a bain in my life as a silver coated stake swiftly embedded in my heart, but now the words find no answer to the evil that has made us all prisoners in our own home, the snow that only days ago brought a slight glimmer of joy into my life has now made it so the unknown is clicking at our heels… and although it pains and angers me to admit it, Morganville is once again at risk. Although I don't care to broadcast the internal workings of my 'experimental' town, I've come to realise people will work towards a future if they are aware of the pain ahead, yet I feel the burden I hold is too heavy for the tinkers in this town to bear...

People are missing…

Human and vampire.

Again the torturous pain of unknowing is lancing at my soul, if I still had a heart that could feel as alive as humans' does it would be spiked with pain, an unearthly explosion of sheer heartbreak.

I've fought more than many in the life l've led, most recently I've destroyed the Draug, my own bare hands crushing the black ball of rot that hibernated inside of Magnus; the pulsating orb which radiated in each of his spawn- my kind no longer have to fear of him and his mutated creatures. I've learnt to love... something I've never had the patience to nurture. The fire is equal to my own but the resolution between us has made the chains of attachment that much stronger- I've learnt that being part of a team means I no-longer have to battle alone.

The treacherous snow clouds mask the sky, in a frightfully bleak white spiked only occasionally with a wilting grey. The shadows loom closer and closer, preying on anyone who ventures beyond their door, a child's game with horrifying consequences, instant death I hope… at least it wouldn't be torturous and unworthy, although in my gut I know it's not. I know the cold winter has brought with it a creature… an organism organised to kill. A seconds' blink and its gone, a second to long and your gone.

A Ruler knows a problem: A Queen knows a consequence but a Founder knows the town is screaming. The rot is embedding itself to the core of the humanity and vampire pledging their lives here. Whatever it is that preying on us, has an advantage has the ability to hide but I promise it won't be for long.

I told my dearest Samuel that I would make things better; the purity of love laced between us in the few precious months we had together showed a side to me I never knew inhabited my body. He made me learn that I had an ability to feel, to care and to love, something I had denied myself century after century. But now it isn't just for Samuel, it's for me… The Queen.


	3. Chapter 3

_They see me in a seconds' glance, they feel me when they breath I hide in the bones of the establishment as their too eager eyes seek. For I am not ready to be seen, to wreck the havoc that I truly can, rip my enemy to the ground taking everyone I can. They know not that I'm upon them till they feel my silky breath, as a coldness enfolds them they have no resolve left; for they are trapped beyond and below the white, somewhere they'll never be seen- feeding my petty army till we are ready to take down the queen._

Claire's pov.

 _I can feel it coming closer, something behind me creeping slowly up to me- the slow breathing a ticking time bomb. I shout for the others to run. Michael runs. Eve runs. Shane runs. I can't run._

' _Help!' I scream, again and again- getting louder as the harsh breathing gets closer and closer._

' _Shane!' I yell, my fear alive in his name._

' _Claire run…c'mon Clai…' But he abruptly cuts off, as I see nothing more than snow… too much snow._

 _A second goes by and the snow just stops. And he's gone. No footprints. No sound. Just gone._

 _I scream._

I open my eyes and surrender myself to the blinding industrial lights.

'Claire! Claire are you okay?' Shane's face is hovering above me, panic etched into his features.

'Yeah…' I stutter. 'Fine.' But I'm not, my body is aching with pent up anxiety, my muscles bunched up, contracting against normality, my breathing is fast, and my heart is pounding against my rib cage. This is my nightmare losing him… as I have nearly done time and time again. One thing about living in vampire central is there is no such thing as an uneventful year. Again we must stand against an enemy.

'What…what time's it?' I ask trying to prove that I'm fine, and failing horrendously as my voice quivers.

Eve's face says I'm fooling no-one. 'Just after four, Amelie wants a meeting in the big hall at five, we were just going to wake you.' Just after four that means I've slept like three hours… yeah sleep hasn't been all that good. A 5am meeting something isn't right- although it's not like the vamps have to worry about missing any sleep- they've been considerate of late though…

'What for?' I ask catching myself on a yawn.

'Not sure really, no-one knows out there.' Michael- bumping his way through the door carrying four cups of pure caffeine energy- the ex-ghost, ex-vampire now turned human again of our weird little fraternity… yes in Morganville born-again humans are the new thing.

'Someone must have an idea, like I'm not being funny but even the white queen can't just call a random 5am meeting when the human folk haven't been asleep for more than a couple of hours.' Taking a large gulp of her coffee Eve scrunches up her face at the bitterness. 'Caffeine can only do so much.' She's too right there, in the last couple of days I'll have been lucky if I've had six…seven hours sleep total. My body is full of fake caffeine addict energy the kind that you only get off having far too many cups of the good stuff- I've even stopped having milk and sugar- the sharp, bitter sting is the only thing that's keeping my eyes open.

'The vampires are out in force though.'

'What?' Shane asks, confusion clear in his tone.

'The vamps they're mingling out there.' Michael pauses for moment taking a sip of his coffee. 'You know building up camper spirit…' There is no humour in his tone.

'This isn't good.' I breathe. Taking a sip of my coffee, the bitterness makes me cringe sending a tingle through each and every nerve. I shiver, and try to remember what it's like to have a good night's sleep.

We're quiet for a while, the only noise is our breathing and the occasional chink of jewellery against our mugs as we sip our boiling drinks. The clock seems to speed forward as if time is lost in our bubbles of thought.

'Guys we better start…' Shane stops as we all look up, as the door to our…'bedroom' opens showing Oliver. Standing with his grey threaded hair tied back, and normal guy clothes (maybe from the seventies but better than usual) he looks the prime example of a caring coffee shop owner; only we know different.

'Present yourself at five.' And with that he leaves, his clipped words lying heavy in the air.

'What happened to Mr nice vampire?' Shanes breathes. I force a laugh.

'Whatever this is, it obviously isn't good…'

'Babe…' Michael addresses Eve, holding her gaze. 'We'll get through this.' She nods, a forced smile on her lips.

'Makes you wish we still had a vamp on side, doesn't it?' Shane always the joker.

'Dude…' Michael laughs.

Then Shane starts laughing. Then Eve. Then I can't stop my giggles.

And for some reason that funny. Actually properly funny and it feels good to finally have something to laugh about.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannah's pov

War is the same everywhere, whether in a small town or an entire world, there is fear but mostly there are survivors. In Morganville war is just a little bit more bitey…

I've seen a human war. I've fought in a human war. We may complain about the vamps but honestly man can be just as cruel to each other without the excuse of needing some O negative to get through the day or years of burning hatred. Here we are just pawns on a chess board but we're moved to save others… to be the hero…

Maybe it was Morganville that taught me how to be a hero.

 _I was in Afghanistan, a blistering heat pounding down on us all. My pack was bulging and crippling after the walk, we were heading to a town on the outskirts of some big city that had in the last couple days experienced severe destruction; it was clear from where we stopped just how bad it had been walls were collapsing in on themselves, dust clogging the air making it dry and heavy to breathe, but mostly it was the stain upon stain of dried blood marking the ground in dark peeling red patches. Oh and the smell: the smell of rotting flesh, something even worse than a two-week floater. A deep scent that invaded my nostrils making me want to back away, the flies were in swarms, clustered on the blood and in the far distance a black mound lay unmoving…just the subtle sound of hundreds of paper-thin wings flapping. It wasn't pretty._

 _Then I heard an engine, a deep growl with a kick back of an exhaust. Something told me it was wrong but the other guys couldn't see it; they clambered on the back happy enough to be off their feet- I followed them… maybe Morganville intuition is good for one thing. We drove along for a few minutes in comfortable silence, the silence only the marines know- taking thin sips of our water. We were crossing a stretch of rubble really when it started- a second stood still as the Jeep was just engulfed in flames, they were licking the seats, touching the flesh of the trapped- their screams were burning in my ears. I'd jumped from the wreck, throwing my pack away- I'd pulled the guy at the back away with me- we'd lay together on the tough rocky ground trying to regain our breath when the yells of horror got louder- those believing they were trapped realising they were going to die._

 _So I ran back._

 _Not a thought entered my head about my own safety but I couldn't stand by and watch them burn to death trapped like the people back in Morganville who burn for their crimes- that I could do nothing about but this… I knew I could act. I ripped the door open, the lingering flames biting at my hands, I grabbed an arm and yanked trying to grit my teeth as their scream of agony ripped through me- they came free I took them to lie off in the safer territory. I did again. I was going back for a third time when the Jeep was just overcome with flame, a dark vivid orange, with red tongues flicking at me. Then it blew._

 _Heavy set black clouds, enveloped me, making me gasp for any clean air- that's when the car exploded and debris flew in every direction leaving me with a wound down my face, pouring a heavy stream of blood from my scalp and down._

 _It was after that I left, I got a medal for it but I don't deserve the medal I was doing a good thing… even if I was only able to save two, its two more than what would have been alive._

So again Morganville is at war but I'm not out fighting on the streets, I'm sitting by my Granma's side, dear sweet Granma Day- 106 and still going strong in town where folk are lucky to reach thirty without a bite mark she is free of any scar or an injury inflicted on her by the vampires, her scars are man-made. She was alive when the apartheid was the natural order of the world, she survived that as she's survived everything since but old age is something even my dear sweet Grandma can't beat. In recent months she been weaker and to cut a long story short the doctors can't see her being here much longer, this war is all we need really. Amelie offered for us to leave but she said no… of course she said no. So here I am cooped up in a hospital wing set up, a thin curtain the only divide between me and Grandma and this horrific world but for some reason it's peaceful; watching her breathe in and out over and over again is like a therapy to my soul and I feel at last safe. Richard's death pulled at my heart in a way that I'd really never known before, something I'd never allowed myself to experience and in honesty I've never really seen myself at peace with it until now. Granma always said I needed to look at myself more and know what I wanted and she was right I didn't realise just how much I loved that man until it was too late until the last of his blood was glistening on my hands. I won't make that mistake again. My Grandma has fought, hell she walked through Morganville on a cane in the middle of the Bishop/Amelie takeover; she has no fear and even as she leaves me I know she wouldn't want me to be sad… she'd want me to fight for my town, continue our legacy as survivors and I will.

The machine next to my seat beeps, a constant sound annoying at first but then it's kind of turned to a lullaby the kind makes you get lost in your own thoughts.

Minutes or maybe even hours pass, as I watch Grandma's weathered face deep in sleep, a smile playing at her lips, making the lines that little bit more defined.

But then the beeping stops, changing to a deep endless tone. The monitor no longer showing anything there, anything putting life through her veins. I watch her for a moment more, close my eyes and take a deep breath. Leaning in close I inhale the smell of my childhood, her own unique perfume with a cinnamon undertone; I press my lips to her forehead, feeling her soft skin against them; tears threaten as the enormity of the last few moments dawns me; I breathe heavily as the tears escape leaving trails down my cheeks.

'Oh grandma...' I whisper with my lips still pressed to her forehead. 'I will miss you.'

The tears feel never ending solid streaks streaming down my cheeks landing in my collar, I step back from her bed; she looks so small but not fragile: never fragile.

'I love you Grandma.' I tell her, and with one last lingering look I turn and walk away- not even bothering to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

Whatever this thing is, let it come because I'm ready for a fight. For Grandma. For Richard. For myself.


	5. Chapter 5

Hannah's Point of View

 _His hand caresses my back, rousing me from a fitful sleep. His face nuzzling my neck, the slight stubble making my skin tingle; I feel his body close to mine… running my hand up the bed I search for him, search for the one person who knows the side of me I never share. I look up, through my eyelashes expecting to see the awkward warm smile of the only man who I've ever loved. He isn't there. Well he's there but he's morphed into something I know only too well…_

I scream myself awake.

'Oh god… oh God…' I murmur, a mantra I breathlessly pant to myself as my body shakes uncontrollably, and my clothes stick to the sheen of sweat coating my body- I've never had that dream before. Richard. Poor Richard. Died, only seconds after I finally realised I loved him; the only man who fought Man, Vampire, weird water Draug to be by my side and I failed in loving him- waiting until it was too late and his life blood coated my hands as I fruitlessly tried to pump it back in to finally admit I felt the pull of love.

I look over at the clock. _04:45._ Better be up anyways, who said the vampires had changed only they would think it appropriate to make a 5am meeting. I'm fretful since my dream, my muscles clenched together from my panic filled wake-up call.

 _Pull yourself together Hannah._ My mental monologue doesn't help, so even though I have less than ten minutes I grab a towel, and drag my sweat soaked ass to shower, hoping the mixture of warm water and steam will clear my head… nothing worse than a preoccupied chief- especially in an epidemic.

Michael's Point of View

I act cool. Act as if I know it's all going to be okay, but I don't. The vampires are mingling in the corridors of the Founders' building, talking in buzzing sounds, their words to slight and silent for mere human ears. This the first time since my conversion, that I wish I was still team Vamp. Wish I knew something, anything that could make this strange paranormal horror make a little more sense. It came from nowhere, one-day blizzard the next something found normally on old re-runs of Scooby Doo. It's started with one… then two and suddenly it escalated to ten and before we retreated to the safe house it had rocketed to fifty! Fifty people missing; and for all I know dead.

The vampires are scared, I can tell from the jerky movements, and the constant checking over their shoulders- since the Draug they thought they were safe from all types of supernatural crazy but now there is something else and no-on is quite sure what it actually is…that's the scariest part. Our supernatural crazy doesn't know what's making our town a ghost town; a snowy ghost town at that.

I have Eve's hand in mine, her grip slightly damp with sweat; without the usual make-up she looks young, there's not even a single skull in sight- just the plain white-gold band glinting on her finger, matching my own. We've come a long way, and I'd finally let myself come to terms with the fact I'm human again and just about as safe as I could be, then this happened. They say you take things for granted but I thought that after everything we'd gone through that couldn't be us; but it was- it was stupid things like: coming home after a days' work -hell even being able to go to work-, ordering take-out when we just couldn't be bothered to cook and even silly little things like lying in bed at night knowing no-one is after you- of all of them I think that's the one we took most for granted- now sleep is a luxury we can rarely afford.

The room Amelie has chosen for the meeting is large enough to hold the whole population of Morganville about three times over, whispers echo in the cavernous space. We stand together, Shane's broad shoulders hiding Claire's petite frame as he stands with his arms locked around her waist, whispering quietly in her ear. Me and Eve don't speak, the only conscious change is that the grip of my hand in hers tightens so it's only just not painful.

We stand for minutes… waiting as people enter in small groups. Couples clasping each-others hands: children of all ages wrapped in parent's arms, still half asleep: then there are the vampires glowing in the lamp lit room, for once positioning themselves in human groups- talking in soothing tones to those looking most fearful.

That's the change, for once the vamps are just as scared.

It's looking round as the doors finally swing fully shut that I see the total devastation that first the Draug and then the Daylighters brought to our small town; the population is literally halved. A couple of years back there would been more families, more faces… now there is just more headstones in the graveyard- just as many vamps as there is humans.

The room turning silent is the only alert I get to Amelie's entrance, the usually immaculate founder is wearing a pair of skinny black jeans and a tight figure hugging sweat top; something not very different from what the girls' are wearing except on Amelie it looks like armour. Her long hair hangs down her back in effortless waves, as she glides through the small crowd smiling comfortingly at odd grouping; finally coming to stand surprisingly close to our little huddle.

Her ice-white smile, holds an odd edge- it doesn't meet in her eyes it's more like a twitching muscle, something she has more than likely practised in a mirror than learnt as a small child- I feel a small shiver echo down my spine.

Many glowing faces turn in our direction staring at the founder in a way I can only describe as desperate, they are not that different to us, they may live longer and be a million times stronger but when the unknown attacks they rally around a leader desperate to be told what to do.

I hear Amelie take a deep breath, one I know she doesn't need.

' _Oh Shit.'_ I breathe. Shane meets my gaze and nods, his lips pressed tightly together. I watch as his arms tighten around Claire and their hands join together, both their wedding band glinting in the dimmed light- and that when I wrap my arm around Eve- and finally acknowledge that this may actually be the time we don't all make it out alive- and our luck may finally have run out.


	6. Chapter 6

Amelie's POV

I stand in front of my town's residents- those both breathing and not. The number has dwindled incredibly lower than what we began with. Over five years ago, our numbers were steady, having swelled over the decades- with an assortment of 'disappearances' but never as drastic as what stands before me. Over the past two years I have not held reason enough to round up all who live in my bustling town- each just made do with the lives they lived. But looking across the sea of heads I see that even if those missing were present our numbers are a mere percentage of what we first started out with.

I see a head appear from around the door, trying to enter the room unnoticed. Hannah Moses a most decorated of Marine and Police, she is no liability- she's strong as I when it comes to protecting what she believes as hers. She has the grit to stay. The same as her grandma; a woman who unlike so many who came before and after was not even remotely scared to question my motives and alert me as to when she believed me to be at fault. Although I was not known as to befriend any of the human residents in my town before the young, sweet innocent Claire, dear Mrs Day and I were acquaintances of such- her honesty was something I began to trust. That is why her death has shaken me in a way I had not anticipated, for over a century I have known this women, watched her grow from a small girl to a courageous elder who deserves my approval. And yet looking around the room now all I see is empty eyes staring back, hollowed of hope- fear settling in their stomachs. Even my vampires gather together with my precious humans seeking solace together.

I take a deep breath, expanding my lungs in a way I only do in times of trouble and fear, breathing makes it tolerable yet gives me no relief. Just to my immediate left I hear a mild whisper 'oh shit.' Coming from no other than Michael, a complete replica of his Grandfather, except for his golden hair; he was one of the vampires that were taken back to humanity by Fallen who I've never quite accepted; he was the piece of his grandfather that I could keep and remember, though now I find myself oddly pulled to protect him and his friends. Though they are no longer the children they once were; they're married couples who have proved time and time again their worth- they have saved me numerous time compared to when I've came to their aid.

Before I can be side-tracked anymore, and begin to comfort the people standing before me; I take another breath and begin; gripping Oliver's hand with enough force to crack bone- he is in this moment my life raft in a sea which is dragging me closer to an imminent death.

'My people, before I can even begin to try and explain where we currently stand, I find that I also have to share some saddening news…' I find Hannah's eye in the crowd, her own eyes are wide slowly filling with tears, but she nods her head, a quick jerk of her neck, before she looks down studying her shoes, trying to hold the pain inside. I find that my humanity is more alive now than it has ever been, fear has made me recognise that the bonds we hold are probably a lot more important than any jewels or power we could ever call our own. If its possible my hold on Oliver's hand doubles, yet he shows nothing in his face of pain. 'As of an earlier hour of yesterday evening I came aware that one of Morganville's eldest residents passed on, many of you will know her as Grandma Day…'

The hall is silent for a heartbeat as the news sinks in.

'oh god…' Claire's whimper breaks the silence, as people begin to come to terms with what has just been announced.

'I thought that one was gonna be around forever…' Shane breathes hugging Claire closer. I can hear all around me people beginning to mourn. As I raise my head from watching Claire and Shane's exchange, Hannah catches my eye pleading wordlessly as stray tears dampen her collar, to move on from this topic. I nod in her direct, as she goes back to studying her shoes.

'Now you all know the situation we are in.' As a collective the whole room human and vampire alike silence, I can't even hear a breath. 'What is out there isn't just to fear-monger, it's something powerful, something that craves the snow. I feel that now is the time in which you should all be aware of the severity of the situation, as of last count there have been seventy-eight disappearances since the snow fell, leading to the belief that what is out there is what is causing the rapidly increasing rate of disappearances- I so add at this point for both clarity and consideration that the number of disappearances is almost equal in both human and vampire.' I hear an intake of breath, a mutter in a language I though was archaic, and a subtle wave of whispers.

'But you know what it is right?' I look down at the speaker, a young woman with tightly braided hair and a young girl clinging to her neck. The fear is evident in her face, yet her undoubted belief in me gives me shivers. I find myself unable to speak, I turn my head to face Oliver a look of need probably clear on my face. He steps closer to my side, not letting go of my hand – I see a few people's eyes widen at such a display but I push that thought away- Oliver clears his throat and the eyes all move to collectively gaze at him.

'As of yet we are unaware as to what this evil is, and as to why it has so suddenly harmed our town; we will not give up till we know…' But Oliver is drowned out by a scream, a scream so blood-curdling and heart wrenching.

'Matilda?! Matilda?!' the voice screams, a voice full of fear.

I turn my head to see a woman, running the length of the room screaming for the little girl she had entered with.

'Matilda?! Don't hide from mummy!' The tears hold no more as they stream down her face. She looks hopelessly at me.

Before I can even open my mouth to speak of silence, a child's high pitched scream echoes through the highly barricaded windows, a scream of terror abruptly silenced.

Just as the scream stops, I hear the impact of a single snow ball hit the window, I look to Oliver- and I know in that moment we need a plan.

'Myrnin, Jessie, Michael, Eve, Shane, Claire, Hannah come with me!' I wave to my guards to come too- walking through an adjoining door leaving a horror movie scene behind me, as I glance behind my shoulder I see the woman sink to the floor, abruptly heartbroken because she knows she'll see her daughter no more.

Despite the pain she is in, I can do nothing to comfort her because I believe too that the little girl is gone. For some unfathomable reason I find myself looking between my Oliver and the four trouble-makers- is this what has become my family?


	7. Chapter 7

Amelie's POV

Not as if I haven't faced danger before, but without a face the fear is increased beyond any recognition. Without a face to watch for, without a name to put to it every mound of snow laces my cold soul with a fear so deeply embedded my cold still heart feels the sting of wishing to pound uncontrollably. I wish I could fathom what is coming, what is nipping at my ankles wishing to drag the residents of my town to a fate as yet is unknown to me.

Last night I dreamt for the first time in many years, vampires don't technically need sleep but it's a comfort many of us still have in form of escape from the constant unchanging world that we live in. Change is not something that happens quickly but something that happens after a whole lot of days. But this is a change in a second… the snow began to fall and almost immediately we had to hide.

I stand taking a deep and very much normally unneeded breath, as I watch the small group I took with me into the anti-chamber try to fathom some form of escape from this fitful disaster; each face is as fretful as the next, I feel myself subconsciously looking around for Oliver, reaching for his hand I grip it tightly, his presence alone calming a deep need inside me I hadn't until this point realised I had. Even after everything we fought through, even after he betrayed me I knew this would be how it ended, after Sam I never thought I would love again but Oliver with his fire and fury made for a match, even I wouldn't of anticipated but his fire mingled with my own make us a perfect coupling.

'The buses?' Claire's spoken thought breaks into my inner monologue. 'Can you remember in Blacke they said they tried to get people out on buses, if we surprise whatever this is, then maybe we have a chance to get the needy out; we can't have kids here much longer- they're petrified!' She was right of course, as much as the parents tried hush their children, we all still heard the wails and tears which would only multiply after today's horrifying disappearance.

'But when? We can't go now… but then we can't wait for later- at the scale of things there is going to be a face-to-face before the week's up.' Shane of course, as battle ready as Oliver- though they would both ultimately hate the comparison.

'Midday day after next.' Claire answered almost immediately. We all turned to look at her questioningly, except one Myrnin, he instead was eyeing her in a way I could only describe as pride.

'Very good.' He whispered. 'Very clever.' He continued in a hushed tone before raising his voice to the group. 'Claire has hitched upon the only defence we can muster at such short notice, although even so it's a risk. As weak as it may be the sun reaches the highest point at midday, at normal conditions at this point even in the mists of winter we would find some melting; Claire's plan wishes to make use of this.'

Even I felt my eyes widen at the complexity of Claire's idea, making a weapon from something we had for so many years taken for granted.

Claire's POV

Well Claire's plan wasn't as complex as what Myrnin made out, it basically came down to trying to melt back some sun, and taking he buses at the point of day in which the sun is weakest. That's it but Myrnin has just made out to be a slight genius… not that I deny that but still.

We haven't slept properly for days now, haven't had time to comb through our hairs to be honest. Since the first wave hit, we've been cocooned frozen. Weird fact about vampires is that they hate the snow, reason being that even in the musty heat their bodies may be cold but warm to the sun's ever presence, whilst the snow cools them down- not that it effects them but still they get freakishly cold- according to Amelie nothing is worse than fighting in furs…

Tomorrow we're sending out a bus, a singular bus that's all we can afford, upon that bus will be children and mothers, like back in history. Despite us wanting to save Morganville the children have to go to safety at least till it's safe and not so far below zero! We have one chance, and that's scary. Although Amelie and Oliver's intense planning means we have a few dozen flame-throwers at hand but what they'll do as defence we aren't exactly sure because this isn't just a normal snow storm.

'Sleep Claire…' Shane murmurs to me. We're back in the 'bedroom', trying to catch a few hours' sleep. I've been awake forever, as every time I close my eyes I see the fear in that mothers' eyes.

'Shane what is this? And why us… always us.' I know I sound pathetic like a child, but something about this makes me want to curl up under my quilt and wail for my parents; who at least are safely miles away.

'I don't know baby; all I know is we're strong enough to survive.' I don't see him move, but I feel his lips on my own- a low tender kiss that warms every part of me, from fingertip to toe- even after all this type he still has this reaction on me. He pulls me impossibly closer to his body, spooning me from behind, my guardian of the night as I feel myself slipping into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Eve's POV

It was a restless night in our 'bedroom' all of us trapped in a cocoon of nerves and undependable fear. I prayed only that we would survive this. Survive whatever comes next because after all we are a family, and I cannot imagine walking down the sidewalk knowing I will never see one of them again. Shane is like a brother to me, Claire is like the little sister I never had and then… where do I start with Michael? He's half of what makes me, without him I'm at a loss. I've lusted after him, liked him, hell even loved him for as long as I can remember; whether he be human, ghost, vampire, reformed human I loved him and I don't want to lose him. I don't want to lose any of them but this feels different from before, we've always had a face to fight whether that be Bishop, Draug… even back when it was fight every day to survive the vampires but not this time I'm restless, a bag of nerves because I know this time we're way out of our depth… and that possibly our luck may have run out.

I sit now just watching. Claire's just playing with her wedding bands, twirling them absentmindedly around and around her finger; her thoughts anywhere but the present. Michael is lying next to me, his head in my lap as I play with his blond curls, twisting them in my fingers, over and over again. Shane went to grab some coffees, this feels so much like Deja-vu of the Draug- we nearly lost Shane last time and Michael- we did lose Claire, only be sheer magic is she still with us; I can't even begin to organise the possibility that one of us or more won't make it through…

Today we're trying to safe some of the folk... not us though we're staying whether that be through devotion to Morganville or sheer stupidity- honestly currently I don't think the two are mutually exclusive. The list of those going includes every child who has survived so far, along with the mothers too, the bus is packed; there is no room for any one spare- this is our only chance to take those most needy to safety, its high risk but not one has opted out; they all understand and accept that without taking this chance they could be sentences themselves to death or something even worse.

Despite not wanting to sound pathetic I wish me and my friends had a seat on that bus- Destination: as far from here as it can get. I regret not leaving when we had the chance, just after the Daylighters lost, Amelie told us we could move on but still we stayed- we had lives here and some part of use knew we'd never be happy unless we were here.

The hands on the clock are crawling by, exactly four minutes and thirty-two seconds Shane comes bustling through the door, haphazardly holding a large metal tray, holding an assortment of breakfast food, and four cups of strong coffee by the smell.

I look down to find Michael's eyes open and intent on staring at me. I feel my cheeks flush even though he's my husband and he's knows be better than I know myself. Last night we'd lay in each other's arms, just touching nothing more. Our minds are too preoccupied to even think of that, all I want is closeness; to know that he is there and I have the man I love with me- as we trek into another unknown Hell… weirdly our destination is unknown too.

Shane hands me a coffee, with a strained smile. None of us speak as we sip at our coffees, and pick at the tray of food Shane brought back with him. I don't think we have the words to express what this even means if it all goes wrong.

Suddenly as if by magic and the hands of the clock have moved ridiculously too fast, its eleven, an hour before we set the buses off into the unknown. We need to pack up the people into the designated seats, that's only a pretence so it isn't a free-for-all, one thing we cannot afford is for it to all go wrong and that it takes double the time, and we miss our chance.

One hundred people are going on to one of the school buses, luckily we have large bench seats, and children capable of sitting on knees otherwise this would never work.

Fifty-five minutes have passed and finally everyone is seated, goodbyes have been said, tears have been shed and now they children are pressed against their mothers, precariously balanced on knees and spare corners of seats, they are heading into midland, to try and find some safe haven- Amelie has generously contributed to a fund in to which they should be able to find some form of home at least until all of us here survive or die; those are the two hands we have been left.

Claire's POV

So the time has come for my brainchild to be put to work for us to final try and save a few lives. Its precariously dangerous to have so many in such close quarters but from what we know it's safe, snow is at its least powerful when faced with the sun.

Two minutes till we launch the bus, I can see through the windows the children crying, mothers hushing them with tear tracks mutilating their own faces. It's the harsh reality that we cannot keep them safe in our own town.

Amelie has left the bus, the doors shut with an empty puff of air, the air around me is frozen in anticipation. With a quick nod to the driver, I hear the bus go into gear and push forward into the snow.

The process is slow going but the snow is receding, I turn my back to look at Shane with a smile… that's when I hear a scream.


	9. Chapter 9

Oliver's POV

I'd turned away in triumph, watching Amelie smile for the first time since the snow became so torrential. She looked so young when she smiled, like a glimpse into her past before she became so cold. Her eyes were wide, as they surveyed the lane the bus took, the most direct route to the boundaries.

I stand now watching carnage, the bus was literally alive with screams, so youthful and pure. I would never have expected the attack, so cleverly concocted. From what I can piece together the bus was over turned by snow, which has somehow been taken away, melted as if by a chemical. The ground before it is littered with bodies, the majority of which are horrifyingly disfigured and burned… some are even still burning, I can smell the thick odour of burning flesh. The screams are singular, here and there… majority are still and silent cold only expect for the flame licking so profoundly at their mutilated bodies.

People are everywhere, swarming among the bodies. Checking for a pulse, a few of Amelie's vampires are even twisting among the injured to help ease them quickly from this agonising death scene, people are sobbing- Amelie is shouting instruction after instruction to anyone who will listen to try and gain some order in this horror but people are still panicking. I can tell by the smell of death in the air, that any attempt at revival is pointless they're dead- as cold and heartless as it sounds they need to admit defeat and return to safety in the Elders' building where we can all try and finalise a plan. Whether that be one which leads to survival or at the other end of the spectrum be mass suicide- something needs to be finalised now before we all become prey.

Claire's POV

The bus just…disappeared with the snow- as if it had been melted. People are burning, people are screaming in horror and pain, children are crying for parents: for a remedy to the pain. And all I can do is run around trying to staunch the bleeding, hoping I'm able to step over the bodiless limbs. Little children lie dead at my feet, I'm not totally sure how I feel… this was my brainchild and now look at it. People are dead, or dying… the vamps are risking everything trying to give aid, but honestly I think they are administering euthanasia to any who still have a beat of the heart or whose bodies are grossly disfigured and their bodies are slowly declining into death just to save them the pain that any form of medicine will no doubt cause.

I'm looking over the bodies and all I can fathom is that these are people who a week ago were going about their normal lives, not a worry in the world and now they lie dead against the snow. I turn my back and find myself looking straight at Oliver who is watching from the side-line, unlike the vampires moving effortlessly around bodies administering help and a cool word (whilst being careful of the flames). His gaze is methodical, like he is surveying the whole scene from a very far distance, or maybe it's just worry that's etched into his ageless skin.

'Take her.' A strained demand breaks through my inner turmoil as I look over my shoulder to come face to face with a woman…well I call her a woman she's probably no more than twenty-five and her haphazard appearance shows she took a brunt force of the 'flame'- if even one existed. Her single arm motions to something within her coat, weirdly that has come away without mark. I squat down to look, only to notice a mass of thick curly hair. I open my mouth to speak but she abruptly cuts in.

'My Annabelle.' She draws in a ragged breath, which is thick and wet; the child at her breast whimpers in her sleep. 'She's two, wont sleep without a story before… please take her...' she breathes again this time with a very physical effort. 'Claire…' Her knowing my name shocks me deeply. 'I trust you to save my child and raise her when this is over… it's an ask but I have no option...' she draw breath again, with a pained expression abusing her pretty heart-shaped face. 'Promise me you'll raise her… let me die knowing she's safe with a home… and a family.' A single tear cascades down her mutilated face.

'I will.' I whisper with tears making tracks down my cheeks. She motions again, this time offering the child to me; pushing her mutilated body towards me, in offering. I undo each button of her coat, separately taking great care not to rouse the sleeping child. She looks majorly unscathed, I feel someone behind me as I turn I see the ageless face of Amelie watching me, her eyes bearing deeply into the women who lies before me; her breaths have become even more ragged, as if each is causing her a great deal of mortal agony. The women's face is again physically marred with pain but she turns her head minutely to face Amelie.

Almost breathlessly she declares herself to Amelie. 'I do not blame you for my death but I hold you responsible for allowing this woman to raise my daughter, to allow her to bring my child up as her own. Do not take my baby away from her, swear to me.' Though death is creeping closer and closer, her gaze is strong when she stares into Amelie's ice cold eyes.

I slowly, and gently move the lapels of her coat as to reach for the sleeping child, I take the small bundle of cloth and brown hair in my arms, her face looks up at me in her sleeping state she looks adorable, so very, very pretty.

'If Claire has agreed…' Amelie's sentence lies heavy in the air, I quickly nod my head, still staring at the beautiful child in my arms. 'Then yes I grant you my blessing and swear to you that I will make it renowned that this child is to be taken into the custody…'

'No. Adopted.' The woman chokes out.

'I stand corrected.' Amelie smiles politely at the woman's soft, tear and blood stained face. 'I swear to you that I will make it renowned that this child is hereby adopted from your care, into the lifelong care of Mrs Claire Collins and her husband, so that the child will in fact be nurtured and grown under their steady gaze and parenting- they are by now Annabelle's lawful parents.'

The woman smiles a slight twist of her broken lips, before closing her eyes and taking a final laboured breath, before becoming silent.

'I promised her Claire… I will not take back my promise so please bring Annabelle up safe…' Amelie's words find resonance in me.

'We will.' The words come from behind, as a feel Shane's warm hand on my hip, his other hand brushes the hair back from Annabelle's face. 'She is our child now.'

'That she is.' Amelie says as if in prayer.

Turning to look at Shane, I see tears in his eyes; yet a smile at his lips- behind him Michael is comforting a blotchy Eve.

'Come on let's get inside…' Shane says, looking down at the woman at my feet, I look at her too.

'but…' I begin.

'We'll send people out to clean up once we know whose accounted for, inside please.' Oliver as abrupt as ever.

So with a final glance at the woman who has just granted me her child to nurture, I hug by daughter closer to me; and follow the trail back to the Elder's building; the whole way Shane doesn't stop looking at the little girl in my arms.

Is it weird that in all of this we've just became parents? And is it even weirder that I'm happy that woman chose me?


	10. Chapter 10

Shane's POV

I look down at the child who is buried into Claire's arms, her heavy brown curls creating a frame around her small petite face. For an unfathomable amount of time I've found myself unable to look away from the child, this morning we had no idea existed. I felt a shift in myself as I heard myself and Claire being made parents, it wasn't the most traditional way but I think it's right. I think in all this horror this is our torch, lighting the way to our survival.

Before Claire I would never have envisaged this for myself. Never of thought of myself as a father or a husband. I was on the road to ruin: no job, no life, no real family. But then look at me now in the middle of a disaster but I'm a survivor- also I'm a husband and a father. I vowed to myself I wouldn't be my father; and now is my chance to prove myself and protect my family…

Wow. I have a family.

Amelie' POV 

I take a final glance of the red stained snow at my feet, littered with still bodies. It's not every day that one feels emotional, I've learnt a long while ago how it is simpler to just deal with life detached from emotion- to not feel when the world dissolves around me. Today has proven to me just how much everything has changed, how much I have become to change and begun to feel again.

Watching Michelle hand over her baby, pulled at something inside of me- Claire's face told me she will protect that child with everything she has left; but I felt responsible for her death and the drastic circumstances in which young Claire and Shane became parents; my desperate need for action meant that I took the first idea that came to the table and took no notice as too what could become an outcome, only that I wanted to show my town I could still win and take control.

I feel Oliver's strong arm on my shoulder, directing me on the snow covered path leading back into the Elders building, I don't want to leave my citizens both children and mother alike dead on the icy street but I know it's no longer safe; and now the immediate danger is over its only right that we step back into the safety of the building and try to complete some form of census of who is left and what the next step is. I'd asked one of my guards to check each body for any-one alive, I couldn't bring myself to leave anyone alive out here but each body has been checked and search leading to a sorrow filled shake of his head, before he too returned to safety.

'Let us go back to our room Amelie, you need rest.' I can do nothing but nod keeping my eyes firmly on the path ahead of me; if I had a heart it would be broken.

We walk like this through the building me pulled close to Oliver's side, my powerful exterior all but a piece of the imagination as my mind replays the moment in which the bus was overtook by snow, and the screaming began. I felt myself freeze, felt my body clench in anticipation. I'm yet to unfreeze.

We walk into my chambers, a deluxe three room abode; in which I have the freedom to be myself, to immerse myself in my own wins and fails. It's in this room I don't have to pretend I'm not afraid, I'm allowed to show just how petrified I am.

I sit on my oversized sofa, the overstuffed cushions gentle and smell of safety. I breathe deeply stretching my lungs to their maximum; something I have of recent done more times than I can remember. I close my eyes and revel in the feeling of peace and freedom…

'Amelie…' Oliver's voice sounds a little off, his husky voice breaking in the final syllable of my name. I open my eyes to find him looking down at me, closer than I expected, making me jump slightly from shock- something I until very recently hadn't experienced since my very early fledging days.

'What Oliver?' I ask, my voice laced with uncertain fear, he never does this too me; he is the fighter- the warrior of the good days of battle. He just stares at me doesn't even blink, as I stare deeply into his face- fearing he has been petrified.

'Oliver!' I yell at him, tears beginning to sting in my eyes. In my emotional state, I am beyond the cool queen, I feel younger and at the point of sobbing- something I have yet to be brought to, even after all of the disasters Morganville has experienced over my ruling years.

Oliver's hand reaches out lightning fast to grip my wrist, pulling me up from the couch so fast I find myself throwing my arms round his neck to steady myself.

'Oliver?' I questioned. He crashes his lips to mine as an answer, his hands winding their way around my waist pulling me impossibly close to his body. His tongue pushes its way into my mouth; exploring as I moan low in my throat, in shock from his sudden assault. I feel myself groan as he again pulls me impossibly closer, but my head is beginning to play catch up- and I'm finally realising how all this began.

I move my head to the side, pulling my lips away from Oliver's.

'Oliver…' I whisper.

'Shh… Amelie…' He breathes back, but my head is spinning with what brought on this sudden attack.

'Oliver what has changed? What's happened?' I ask taken back by his sudden change in mood.

'Amelie don't make me be the one who has to tell you…' His tone sends shivers down my spine, I know something has changed.

'Oliver.' I warn.

'Look.' Oliver says, passing me a single sheet of paper without taking his eyes away from my face.

I look down curiously at the sheet of paper in his hand, a simple A4 sheet of office paper something so ultimately modern. I glance down from Oliver's gaze to read what's written on the sheet.

One word.

A single word.

In antique spiked writing.

Run.

I feel myself get rather breathless, I feel my knees falter beneath me. Oliver's arm catch me before I fall.

'No…' I whisper.

'I'm so sorry my queen…' He murmurs, kissing my temple. 'I will protect you.' He vows. 'I love you.'

I look up into his face, seeing him watching me intently.

'I love you too.' I whisper. For us this is a vow, an old time vow in which we are bonded together. Love too us is not as simple of a concept as it is for these young ones. And for some reason, most likely struck by the sheer magnitude of the situation I'm in, I find myself crying- pulling myself closer to Oliver, burying myself to his chest.

I thought this time I was free. But no…

This time they are taunting us. They are telling us to run.

 _Reviews ideas or feelings towards the story…_


	11. Chapter 11

Jessie's POV

It's typical I come back to Morganville and already its carnage. Yet I feel one cannot come to complain of such horror when one is belatedly being made joyous of such an extent by the one, who had until recent years been believed to be beyond one's reach. I was Myrnin's girl long before he forced his head out of the books he craved so desperately. I left to gain some freedom, following Anderson as a help to Amelie, I paved a near normal life in which I could be as close to human as I could be; well as long as I came about some blood- Anderson was generous enough in that area; if it was crucial Pete would donate, never nothing beyond a pint or two, we were friends: I think he guessed what I am. But another reason, not too many know for my departure was that I couldn't bear to watch Myrnin's slow decline into madness, I too knew of this mystical disease, I was too close to Myrnin to not. Our relationship took a curve-ball as his investigation to find a cure became the imperative of his existence. Feverously each day, to night he would work himself to exhaustion, trying unsuccessfully to please his Amelie, his over-worked mind and body are what I blame most surely for his most dramatic decline into madness. When I left he was beginning to deteriorate, to something I didn't know- a shell of the man I was, most admittedly in love with.

After I'd been given the cure, Myrnin and Claire had created I will not deter from the truth but will admit that I was close to returning to Morganville in a vain attempt to rekindle whatever had been between myself and the Lord Myrnin of Conwy yet my position in protecting the research of Anderson made me rethink my choice in returning, alas did my freedom and the choices I had in which direction my life would take. I was free to be who I wanted, the age-less vampire was a darkened secret, as I show-cased the feisty nature that was inside.

Do I regret not coming back sooner? No I don't. I don't think I realised how much I loved my Lord until I saw him in such a withered state; he is a piece of my DNA, a piece of me that I for so long had repetitively told myself I didn't need. In a weird way I think Claire at the beginning was slightly jealous of the power I held unknowingly to Myrnin, possibly envious; for her the change was that she was no longer the very centre of his universe, a place I've come to understand she owned since she first met the crazed vampire scientist- yet now I can proclaim we are friends; she so similar to Myrnin finds it hard to leave a task, and can forever be found with her head stuck firmly in a book- I find it a creation of mystery as to how her and Mr Collins became a pairing both such opposites in nature.

Yet now I sit in a make-shift lab as Myrnin watches a piece of snow through a microscope. Yes, it's weird but apparently he's finding something useful, as without his eye leaving the eye piece, he's writing a random array of numbers on a chalk board; from the consolation I believe him to be working in a squared formation, working from the outside in: some numbers being much larger than others, many being minute in his spidery handwriting. I can see no more sense to it than such, yet for him this random selection is crucial. Watching him work so feverously makes me yearn to be closer to him, because although I am reluctant to admit how fearful I am of the ever creeping doom I cannot imagine living again without him.

I pull my hair roughly into a tight braid, wrapping a stray elastic around the end. I stand moving closer to Myrnin though not wanting to disrupt whatever it is that he is painstakingly working on; yet my need for touch is getting outrageously strong; I just want to feel safe and that I'm not alone. I place my arms around his neck, kissing him directly where his pulse would have been; I feel his shiver, as his breath comes out in a single gust.

'My sweet Lady Grey…' He breathes, turning in his stool to face me. Before he has a chance to talk, I place my lips against his harshly, letting my tongue invade his mouth; possessing him thoroughly as he reciprocates, his hands curling round my waist pulling me increasingly closer as his lips take control of the kiss, pushing me to a new extreme as I groan low in my throat.

'Jessie' He breathes, our lips almost touching.

'Don't question it.' I say. Knowing now that I don't just want to kiss, I want myself to come apart at the seams and know I am loved: it's all well saying wait till we are safe but maybe that day will never come- we have to make each second count.

'Okay.' His response catches me off guard as I expected an argument, but what surprises me more is his ferociousness as he grabs me, lifting me roughly on to a now empty lab table. His lips crush to mine as he slowly unbuttons my shirt, taking great care to run his fingertips over my breasts as I feel my body come alive, if I had been human my pulse would of pounding with need. I pull him closer to me feeling his excitement under my fingertips, I can no longer deal with the need that is pulling me under; as I unbutton his trousers; wanting to feel the current of his full possession ruin me; letting me feel beyond loved, letting my ache turn into pleasure- letting me feel the throws of passion we have once before shared- I for once want to be owned…

We lie still next to each other, if we had needed breath we would both be panting, trying to slow our heart rates. I feel content lying in Myrnin's arms, as if the world around me is frozen in this moment. I turn my head nuzzling into Myrnin's neck, kissing a spot just behind his ear as he hums in pleasure.

'You're a most fitting distraction Lady Grey.' He jokes, looking at the wreck of books and glass lying on the floor. I feel a laugh bubble in my throat.

'Lord Myrnin of Conwy I believe you enjoyed my distraction…' I playfully reply.

His laugh rumbles through his chest, making my own body yearn for him once more, as if reading my mind, he leans his face closer to mine, his finger stroking my leg gently, oh so slowly making its way up to my centre.

'Now that won't do...' he breathes, pushing two finger inside of me, making me moan loudly. . 'This time I plan to truly distract you and only you…' My moan catches in my throat, as he increases his pace; pushing my body to an even higher climax.

My body is on the edge, spiked with pleasure to the point of almost pain; my moans are echoing as Myrnin pushes my body to the extremes of pleasure.

'Myrnin!' I scream as my orgasm spikes… I pant for unneeded breath.

'Oh…oh shit.' I hear as a background noise to my mind-breaking orgasm.

'Claire…' Myrnin starts.

'It's fine…' I hear Shane laugh; as I look up I see him and Claire walking from the doorway, Shane holding the child tightly to his chest shielding her eyes; both of them seem to be on the brink of hysterical laughter.

'Now that's never good…' Myrnin murmurs. I look at Myrnin questioningly.

'They've just saw us naked! She's my assistant!' he says in total outrage; although I can see from the colouring in his cheeks its mostly embarrassment, I grasp his hand pulling him closer; pressing my lips firmly to his; making him moan deep in his throat as I make him forget all the reasons it's wrong to make love in a disorderly lab…where anyone can walk in the door.

This is home. This comfort. This is a forever; yet at the moment its forever that is measured in hours.


	12. Chapter 12

Claire's POV 

In the middle of all this horror nothing should be even slightly funny, but the look on Myrnin's face was priceless. Ignoring all the nakedness, he looked like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar before lunch- well his hand was somewhere but I can certainly say it wasn't a cookie jar! I'm beyond relieved that Shane had a tight enough grip on Annabelle's sleeping form to hug her tight to his chest, just in case she in promptly woke. We honestly can't stop the laughing, I for one will never be able to un-see the expression on both Jessie and Myrnin's face; it was theatricality hilarious.

Annabelle is yet to wake from her slumber; and I will admit both me and Shane have checked multiple times to make sure she's still breathing! I don't know where to begin in explaining to a two-year-old why she won't see her mummy again; why she now has to learn to love people she is only just meeting. My eyes prickle with tears at just the idea of her reaction, of how heartbroken she will be; and how I'll have to try to console this beautiful little girl who has turned me within the hour into a parent. Shane is sitting on the couch, in our 'bedroom'; an ornate, probably priceless antique which is heavily decorated with flocked flowers- Annabelle is lying in his arms, he hasn't put her down since I handed her to him; he keeps looking at her as if she's a dream and will disappear at any given minute.

'Shane how do we tell her?' I croak, a lump forming in my throat.

Looking only at her he shakes his head, soothingly running his fingers through her brown curls. I watch my family in front of me and know that nothing would hurt me more than losing them, either of them. The innocence of Annabelle gives me something to fight for but losing Shane and her gives me the courage to face whatever is coming.

I don't know how much time has passed, but I can't take my eyes off the two people I love in the world napping; at some point Annabelle's arms came to rest around Shane's neck, as she hugs her face tightly into his shoulder, I think it was at this point I began to cry… whether it be sadness or joy I'm still unsure. I feel my eyes get heavy, and begin to droop; today of all days has been terrifyingly draining and I know it's probably not the best idea to be sleep deprived also.

I wake disorientated to the sound of sobbing, a tiny childlike sob. It's in these few seconds I realise what I've woken up to, I lift my head from the couch at the same moment Shane catches my eye; I can see a build-up of tears being quickly blinked back. I look down to Shane's lap to find Annabelle missing, instead she curled at the furthest corner of the couch, her whole body wracked with sobs, as she rocks back and forth her head on her knees; I feel my heart break. Shane reaches a hand towards her, only for her to raise her head quickly and back even further into the corner of the couch; he drops his hand in defeat, sitting up straighter in his seat.

I take a deep breath, pulling all the calm I can muster into this moment; I move to kneel on the floor next to the couch, making no sudden movement as if I was trying to calm an injured animal, or Myrnin back in the maddened days.

'Annabelle.' I whisper, my voice breaking at the last minute.

'Mama…' She whimpers, tears over flow my eyes; as I look at the blotchy face of my baby.

'I'm Claire, I know your mama…' I say trying to divert the conversation away from the piece which is ripping at my heart. I reach tentatively towards her, her eyes growing increasingly large; like orbs overflowing with tears; but I don't lower my hand till I grasp her tiny one. She shakes so violently with fear, as I grasp her hand, whining repetitively 'mama' under her breath.

Shane leans forward, his hands on his knees making no sudden moves. Her face is frozen still with fear, watching Shane with blatant fear. I move my other hand to rest it on Shane's leg; Annabelle's eyes watch my hand, as she hiccups back sobs.

'This is Shane Annabelle; he won't hurt you.' Shane doesn't move, doesn't make any attempt to come any closer, but I can feel how tense he is under my hand, how scared he is that this could all go wrong. Annabelle moves her eyes up slowly to look Shane in the face, staring intently as Shane smiles softly at her; she stares and stares before moving again to look back at me.

'Mama?' She asks, although this time her tone is more questioning than fearful.

'Your Mama… your Mama…' I stumble over my words, literally tongue-tied as to how I explain to this toddler that she won't see her mother again. That her mother chose us as worthy to raise her child. No two-year-old can understand that, no child can ever come to terms with the fact that their mother will never walk back into their lives and smile, or pull them close.

'She…' I can't do it; I physically cannot tell this child that she'll never see her mother again. Its breaking my heart, I can't seem to stem the tears that are rolling down my cheeks nor the pain in my heart. I look at Shane to see tears in his eyes too, I look at him in utter desperation for him too help, to say something to make it all better.

'Your mama said for you to stay with us now…' Shane begins his voice soft. Annabelle raises her dimpled hand, slowly finding Shanes and holding tightly looking at him full in the face. 'We're going to love you now, just as much as your mama.' How Shane is so calm I have no answer, my breathing is hitched with unshed tears. I feel Annabelle's hand leave my own as she moves from the corner of the couch crawling up to Shane, with a shocked expression on his face Shane opens his arms for our baby, who curls up on his chest her arms curling round his neck as she rests her head on his chest.

'Mama gone?' She asks Shane, looking up into his face.

'Mama gone.' He mutters. I don't as much see or hear her cry, I feel it a crashing sensation that rips at my heart and makes my lungs contract. The pain this child is in, is comprehendible as she has no way of understanding why her mama has gone.

'Your mama loved you, she wants us to keep you safe and love you Annabelle.'

And as if Shane's words were a balm to her pain, she curls up in his arms, as he tentatively places his arms around her, rubbing her back soothingly.

Just before she drifted off she murmured almost silently.

'Dada…'

Me and Shane are locked in a soul-searching stare; yet for not one moment do we regret the moment we became parents.

 _Reviews?_


	13. Chapter 13

Amelie's POV

As if my life hadn't been a race of two sides for long enough, now I have to contend with the fact the greatest and last enemy of the vampire has somehow crawled from the very pits of hell to once again entrap us. Their poisonous touch is lethal and once again they return to overcome us and to feed from the existence we have so carefully and lovingly made prosper. I broke the chain, I killed Magnus; my power as yet to dissolve to the draug's transformation and with the tiniest of strength I still clung too, I was able to rip away the shred of life he clung to; in so destroying the spawn he had created- leaving us triumphant and his vessel nothing more than black tar… just like the heart I broke with my bare hands.

But yet they return?

The clever manor of their return is one that can be written in many history books and if any are successful in survival, my vampires will be wary of wherever they next come to call home- the forever changing curse of the draug feels like a power-trip in which we will probably never truly escape unscathed. Our last fight left much to be desired yet now with a home already close to being destroyed I can't bring myself to admit they have won; snow is a vestibule of myth and legend- something made fearful only from distasteful movies that incline a horror of non-existence.

I look into the ornate mirror and what I see scares me, scares me more than the path I know lies ahead. I look hollow, look without a hope. My hair is without its gloss, my eyes are without their gleam, my mouth looks like it could no longer articulate the whip like words I know I used to command with such terrible ease. The frighteningly cool ruler I used to see, is a shadow- I no longer ooze power I instead radiate fear. I look across to the bed where Oliver still lies asleep, even in sleep he shows his power, that a warrior lies underneath the persona he so carefully concocted. I have never strayed from the path of leader; I have never seen myself unfit to command the streets that I nurtured in my heart. Even after I lost dearest Samuel, despite some believing my rule was over I stood strong, knowing in myself I still had the power to bring the town to heel.

Although now I find myself doubting the ability I have for so many years took for granted; I feel myself needing the hand Oliver has so kindly given.

The Amelie I know once shone through is pacing in her cage; for I have lost the key.

Myrnin's POV

Stupid, stupid Myrnin. I taunt myself over and over again. Dear Claire has just saw… and her young man. Nakedness was a part of life many years ago; one would not think to comment upon it as an unordinary turn of events; but in these modern years the very idea of being naked in public turns the young into discomfort and the feeling of embarrassment. The laughter coming for Claire and Shane alike made me feel somewhat embarrassed. Claire has seen me maddened, seen my gouge my skin with pins but nakedness I'd think not. Her young man until not that many years ago was my competition for her attention, and now he has just seen me…

A growl escapes into my throat.

Jessie's hand enraptures my own, pulling me closer to her naked form. Many things a man can deny himself but something served up so freely is one that even the strongest of man would fail to say no to. I bring my lips to hers, pulling at her hair to bring her closer as she groans into my mouth. Its then that I feel a weird sensation on my leg, a pulling of such. Not a piece pleasant as it begins to burn, my dumb stupid imagination I think…

Yet it doesn't stop. Only intensifies. Only works its way higher… more pain.

More pain.

I shout incoherently.

I spin on my heel.

Something loses its grip on my leg.

Its only in my spin I see the floor clear of snow.

Its only when I look directly in front of me I see the ghastly creature.

'Draug.' I breath.

It laughs in return as it creeps suicidal closer.

Jessie's scream only makes it laugh harder.


	14. Chapter 14

Eve's POV

I wouldn't say that I'm jealous or that I wish it was me but… watching Claire and Shane with the little girl is like someone staking me in the heart, before Michael's conversion back to humanity I'd come to terms with the idea of not having children- if I'm being totally honest with myself I'd debated when I, myself would be converted: for I knew I wasn't going to grow old without him. Yet now I have all these open doors, and possibilities… Claire and Shane just make me think that's all.

So anyways the bus… what can I do but say that its tragic…unexpected… blood hungry…

I'm homesick. I want to go back to the blissful years after the Daylighters, when I wasn't being hunted or having to watch every single move I made. I want to go home to our house, curl up on the couch and watch a movie falling asleep in Michael's arms: but no. Instead I'm here, trapped in the middle of an iced Hell. It's not that I didn't expect one day we would again be unsafe, it's more like I'd grew accustomed to feeling safe, to being able to live a normal life and not have to stock up on wood and silver- something all Morganville's unprotected citizens had on their daily grocery lists.

That's another thing we can't stay here. No matter what, the vampires aren't that prepared. A few more weeks' tops before we run out of necessities. Like its all good being peachy until it's a lie, and not one of those little white lies but one that could be the end of us; could be the end of the community I've grew up to know: and honestly in the past years grew to love.

There is more to this than I anticipated, this isn't something we've seen before; it's the weather…

No... it won't be…

But what if it is?

Just like the rain.

She killed it.

 _Stranger things have happened._ My sub-consciousness is right, as sick as it makes me feel; I can't deny pieces of it all make sense.

'Eve?' Michael questions, crouching down in front of me; his eyes wide. I must have made some sort of noise.

'It all make sense…' I whisper. 'It's all the same as before.' I conclude, before gracelessly bursting into hysterical tears.

'Shane!' Michael shouts. 'Claire!' The urgency in his voice is apparent even through my sobs, which are hitching and making my breath catch in my throat.

I hear their footsteps coming from the hallway, they'd been in the carpeted anti-room of our 'bedroom'.

'What's the…?' Claire doesn't finish her question, I don't as much see as feel her eyes narrow in on my face, as she walks forward and drops to her knees in front of my chair. 'Oh God what is it? Eve come on what's wrong?'

'It's back.' I mumble.

'What's back?' Shane asks, his posture changing to defensive, as his arms tighten around the girl, who is looking at me with worried eyes.

'It's the same as last time… it never went away.' I sign.

'Sweetie, your making no sense; your scaring us! What do you know?' Claire's eyes boar into mine, making me feel as if she can see deep into my soul, it's that mixed with the realisation of last time that makes me cry harder.

'Eve!' Michael shouts in panic.

'We're all going to die. She didn't kill it. Its back.'

'She's right.' An ethereal voice comes from behind us.

'Miranda?!' Shane queries in shock.

'Nice to see you too Shane…' Her voice cuts off for a few seconds only for her to breathe deeply and murmur. 'You will be good parents… I know.' I feel the shock make its way through Claire as she sits up straighter.

Miranda acts as if she sees none of this, and wanders into my views as if we're back home in the Glass house; the only indication she shows of her fear is by her whitened knuckles as she grips Jenna's hand tightly.

'I saw it. I saw it long ago. It was a dream…'

From her pocket she pulls out a poem… written in long hand.

'I can never write like that… isn't it pretty…'

I feel my eyes look down absentmindedly to read:

 _As if by magic it will return_

 _As white as purity, as blackened as earth_

 _Though we feared it before, its only grew stronger still_

 _She still sees it the girl who knew_

 _But everything has changed and the power is no longer the prize._

 _The blood of the innocents will be pay the price_

 _But no-one survives as the world turns as cold as ice._

 _Magnus watches, a piece in the games_

 _Snow is watching, each and every move we make._

'M..M..Magnus?' Claire whispers.

'No.' Shane shouts, startling Annabelle, who immediately starts to wail.

'Yes.' I say knowing now, we are again fighting the elements.

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	15. Chapter 15

Claire's POV

She's wrong she has to be wrong, it can't be Magnus it just can't. My whole body is trembling, as I take a breath that burns my throat, making me feel like I'm about to drown- I can't draw enough breath into my lungs; my heart is racing, faster and faster like a constant drum beat inside. I'm hot and cold like a broken thermostat; who would have even thought he could come back? Amelie ripped him apart, she killed him! She broke his heart… literally.

'Claire…Claire!' I look up at Shane, his face is a mask of beaten down anger. Annabelle is wailing in his arms her face almost as blotchy as Eve's. 'Claire it will be okay; you know I won't let anything happen to you.' And that's what tips me over the edge, he thinks I'm scared for me…no! I'm scared for them, scared of what Magnus will do to them; about how he could drain them dry in his barbaric way and what he'd do to make me regret ever thinking I'd helped concur him. I wail along with Annabelle, with every nightmare I had so carefully locked away fighting to be free and succeeding leaving me more breathless with fear and beyond consolable. It may have been seconds, minutes or even hours by the time I finally look up; my tears have dried out and my body is overcome with empty sobs. I look up to see everyone is staring at me. Shane looks physically in pain, frozen accept for the gentle soothing motion he is making on Annabelle's back; Michael looks trapped, as if he wishes this would all just go away; then Eve, she has tear tracks on her face too, with her hand pressed so tight over her mouth more than likely to stop her own sobs. And then there is Miranda and Jenna, who are just sitting in the same place they were before, Miranda is just staring at us; as if she is willing us to stop being stupid and listen to her- whilst Jenna looks like she wants to be anywhere but here.

'You said… you saw this?' I ask Miranda, although all my words come out in muddle.

'Yes and no…' Miranda sighs.

'Yes and no?' Shane questions, anger already distinguishable in his tone.

'Yes Shane; I saw us attacked again. It was a while ago now; in my head I kinda just thought it was dream but then this happened and I saw it all again…'

'And?' Michael presses.

'And she was devastated.' Jenna comments. 'She woke me up sobbing, saying we were all going to die, that he was back; for about an hour all she would say was 'he's back, he's back' I thought she was going mad!' It's clear from Jenna's outburst that she cares a lot more about Miranda than we'd initially thought.

'Yeah but what I saw was that he's weaker… a lot weaker. Snow isn't as powerful as rain that was clear. Water can disappear as quick as a flash' She clicks her fingers as if to prove her point. 'But snow that takes a while, they can't escape as quickly… something sciencey.'

'Change of state.' I breathe.

'What?' Michael asks.

'Well they've changed state, what was once a liquid, is now solid… and well its harder to get rid of ice than it is water.'

'So what do we do?'

'It's obvious isn't it?' We all look at Shane because it's not obvious not obvious at all. 'Flamethrowers.' He laughs. 'Even I know heat melts snow.'

'And we have access to flamethrowers?' Jenna queries.

'Hell yeah, we do.' Shane laughs. 'Jenna go find your man, I know Rad loves his fire.'

Jenna signs but ultimately nods, as if she knows Rad is doing this with or without her permission. Her and Miranda leave us, I find myself looking to each of my friends; I think this is the longest time we haven't spoken. I break the silence.

'We need to go to Myrnin. He needs to know what Miranda saw… and that poem thing… do you guys remember it?'

'No.' Michael answers. 'But luckily I had the idea of taking a picture of it.' Michael shows us his phone screen, a picture of the poem alive on the screen, I read it again; shivering at the implication of it.

'It's me.' I say.

'What?' Shane asks stepping closer.

'Listen…' I take Michael's phone from his hand. ' _She still sees it the girl who knew_ ; _but everything has changed and the power is no longer the prize._ Of course it's meall its now saying is that my ability to see it is pointless, that power means nothing.'

I hear them all take a breath; I don't let anyone comment.

'Come-on we need to go and see Myrnin; we need him on side.'

They all nod, following me from the room.

Hannah's POV

I don't know why I think Myrnin is the answer but last time he helped me; this time I'll do everything I can to help him. We need a way out of this town; something is readying itself for the kill; this building is a fortress that isn't secure- it's picking and choosing when to attack. We need out… well honestly we needed out like a few days ago but still now is better than never.

I take the curves of the building, walking past age old paintings of vampires I see daily; but that doesn't bother me- we're all about handholding and love now, right? Only Myrnin would pick to put his lab in the most obscure place possibly, only he would think it wise that it should be the furthest away from every other walking, functioning being- well at least you wouldn't hear any of his mad experiments or Jessie's screams… Claire told me…naked on a lab table is not what I'd expect from Myrnin but still…

Anyways I'm alone and its cold, not in the sense of temperature but in the sense that something just ain't right I'm not sure what yet but I can feel that something is off; something that shouldn't be here is; its alien feeling. I quicken my pace from the stroll I was taking to more of a jog; trying to remember the turns I was told to take: Left, right, straight ahead, second right, last door on the right.

I stand outside the door for a moment steadying myself; not because I'm breathless, just out of need for normality. I'm standing here looking at the door debating whether or not this is actually a good idea when I hear the yelling followed by a woman's scream. I don't think I just move, pushing the door open with that much force it flies off the hinges. But then I freeze because standing in front of Myrnin who has Jessie pushed behind him is a Draug… now I know it shouldn't be here but I'm telling you it Draug…

It's Myrnin's yelp that startles me, and I run forward launching myself on the thing's back; pulling with all my might trying to overturn it, gravity is on my side as we both fall backwards, the Draug letting go of Myrnin, with a weird kinda squelching noise. For all it seems made of nothing, the weight of the draug falling on me, winds me leaving me acutely breathless. I gag for breath, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. It's only after a few second I open them, as I feel a sharp pain in my stomach, moving its way down my legs, I find myself looking into the seemingly bottomless eyes of the Draug; its whole body looks almost identical to the awful slush that fills the streets after a hellish downfall of snow- that grey, muddy slush that just doesn't go away for weeks. It smiles, revealing teeth; but not actually teeth- yeah they would be sharp but under not one circumstance would I even begin to describe those weird monstrosities as teeth. As if in a blink of an eye, I feel the sting of the draug along my face, as its tongue whips out snakelike licking the side of my face. I whimper, not because of the pain but because of the utter filthiness of what is happening to me. I feel a pulling, only to see Myrnin and Jessie behind the draug, pulling despite the pain it will cause them, to try and free me; in a move as quick as a breath the draug spins on it heel and pushes both of them away; before turning back to me.

I feel it's whole body engulf me, and I can tell the exact moment that I knew this was the end. My legs, my hips, my torso, my neck, my nose, my eyes… then everything. I'm in the virtual prison of the draug and I can feel the blood leaving me; I look down to find the draug is now a shade of crimson; and my body is lighter than ever; except for my chest which is burning, trying desperately to find any amount of precious oxygen but it comes up empty. The initial sting I felt off the Draug is diminished to nothing- I'm floating above life and almost embracing death. Weirdly this is comforting, knowing in dying I saved both Myrnin and Jessie… I can finally be at peace. I close my eyes and embrace the draug's deathly hold. Feeling my body go lighter than air, my heart stutter and then I think…

 _Finally, I'll be fr…_


	16. Chapter 16

Claire's POV

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The clock is too loud, its echoing in my ear drums; a base beat which in itself is droning away every other decibel of sound. We are all gathered in Amelie's quarters; us, Myrnin and Jessie, Oliver all because of the death of the chief of police…and Myrnin is currently trying his very hardest to incriminate himself of her traumatically, horrific end. Because she was murdered. And not by Myrnin… before you start to guess. She murdered by the Draug. The cold, blood sucking inhuman beast that is ruling the majority of our small now almost happy town.

'But it was me… if I hadn't got so distracted and…' Myrnin breaks into my inner monologue with his growl which almost becomes a scream. I can tell by just looking at him that his blame is soul deep; he isn't just blaming himself, he's torturing himself with what ifs, replying a million ways he could have saved her. Saved Hannah. But the fact is they did try and save her. They tried to pull the draug off, their hands show evidence that they took hold of it, that they tried but what I've learnt about these demons are that their weakness normally aren't our strengths and they had us in that lab… they had the upper-hand; as Shane would say they had the leverage. And now we have another body in our make-shift morgue. A morgue that is getting far, far too much use.

'Myrnin listen it was only a matter of time…' Amelie tries to reason with him, her tone bare of her usual power and authority.

'No.' Myrnin physically exhales. 'No it's not. He was right Aquinas he was; sex is intrinsically wrong… look what it's done today…' And then Myrnin lets out a scream, an animalistic vestibule of his utter sorrow and regret- and I'm taken back all those years to when the disease was eating him alive making him the stereotypical vampire of those awful fictions.

'Myrnin listen man…' Shane is trying to talk some sense into Myrnin… and for some reason that brings tears into my eyes. 'You tried to stop it. You had the snow in the lab to try and help save us all. You are not to blame, none of us are too blame. It happened we are in the middle of Hell…no one is responsible.' Shane sounds so mature saying all this; so far removed from the guy I'm usually married to, the one who sits and plays video game every night, hooting in laughter when the zombie bites off Michael's avatar's head before his own.

'He's right.' Michael says. Moving closer to Myrnin, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'You have no blame here; it was just too strong.'

'But she's dead…' Myrnin whispers.

'But not because of you my _brawd.'_ Amelie murmurs. The welsh custom makes Myrnin raise his head, meeting Amelie's eyes, his long brown hair hiding the majority of his face. 'It was not you who made the fatal blow my dear friend; in war death is an occurrence that is customary, yet this war is one where each death is a blow- but not one that is at the hands of our enemy will make the consequence fall at our own feet; instead when we fight we will fight for them.' Amelie raises her voice and addresses the room, I can't even hear a breath. 'We will fight in their honour, making sure that their deaths were worth something.' We're hushed, even Annabelle who's cradled in Eve's arms.

'I never thought I'd see her go.' Oliver says, his voice hauntingly soft in tone. 'Returned from war, a hero.'

'She won't be forgotten, no-one in this town will be forgotten.'

It's in the following silence that I feel Shane's arms around me, his cheek resting on my head, as we both savour the closeness and the beauty of the relationship we have together- we have been so lucky to have gotten this far in a town where once nightfall was almost a death sentence in itself. And now when we'd actually believed we were safe, we were once again being hunted in our streets, in the place we actually call home.

'Daddy?' Annabelle's high pitch voice, echoes in my ears as both me and Shane turn in her direction. In her struggle Eve lowers her to the floor, where she walks almost haphazardly to Shane her arms raised above her head, for him to pick her up. Her chubby toddler legs adorably sweet in the leggings, her mother probably picked earlier this morning. Shane picks her up, throwing her in the air and catching her- making her belly laugh, and scream 'Ag..ain! Ag..ain!' in-between hysterical giggles; her joy is tangible and also very catchy because before long I hear Eve laugh, them Michael, then even Jessie; I look over to Amelie to find her smiling at my little girl, along with Oliver even Myrnin is looking at her adoringly.

'New mama?' She asks.

I think my heart stops beating. I feel tears build in my eyes. I turn to look at her, in Shane's arms; hours ago we had just the two of us but now we're part of a family.

'What?' I say to her, smoothing down one of her curls.

She doesn't answer just stretches out her chubby little arms towards me, pushing herself into my arms, I take her from Shane without taking my eyes from her face her little arms wind their way around my neck, with her head resting on my shoulder; she gives a contented sign. The tears no longer just pool in my eyes; I feel a smile playing at my lips. I lean into Shane as his arms encircle my waist, and now I feel content… I feel somewhat safe. Annabelle's breathing becomes heavier, as sleep welcomes her lovingly.

Its then that a realise today is finally over. I catch myself on a yawn.

'Yes I very much agree, today has been somewhat exhausting. Go to your rooms, sleep as best you can.' We all nod, making our way to the door. 'Oh and Claire?' I turn expectantly. 'I'll see that my people find the child's belongings and other necessities.' I smile and nod, literally asleep on my feet.

Myrnin is walking ahead of us in the hall leading from Amelie's chambers, the hallways wide but somewhat claustrophobic due to the heavy maroon carpet and dark walls ornamented with large brass frames holding photos many centuries old. His rambles drift over me like a fine spring rain, that even in the small concentrated state seems to soak you to the skin.

'They will not leave here alive…' I hear snippets of the conversation Jessie and him are having in harsh tones. 'I have enough… they are weak!'

'What?' Shane's asks, confusion lacing his tone. Michael and Eve have come to a stop too, forming a circle round Myrnin and Jessie; Jessie if anything looks remotely smug.

'They're weakened.' Myrnin murmurs.

'Miranda…' I breathe.

'Oh God.' Eve whispers.

'Fuck then what do we do…' Shane questions, surveying the corridor as if expecting a draug to appear.

'What do you mean Miranda?' Jessie asks, watching us all questioningly.

'Oh we didn't… when we came down the lab we we're coming to tell you but then…well…' I stutter, unsure how to finish that sentence.

'Right, well let's go to the hub and we'll sit and you can tell us.' The hub is what we call the intersections between corridors, pointless circles of space with the main one being right outside our bedroom…fabulous right? Even through my exhaustion I know there is absolutely no point in arguing with her, so we trudge down the rest of the corridor, I literally moan in relief when I sit on one of the couches.

'So Miranda is the physic girl, right?' Jessie asks.

'Yes.' Eve replies. 'But after she died then became a ghost, human you know, she stopped having visions; this is the first one in a while.' Eve finishes breathless.

'Okay so why did you all react the way you did before?'

'Well this is why.' Michael sighs, prizing his phone from his jean pocket, he taps a few keys and shows the screen to Jessie.

' _As if by magic it will return_

 _As white as purity, as blackened as earth_

 _Though we feared it before, its only grew stronger still_

 _She still sees it the girl who knew_

 _But everything has changed and the power is no longer the prize._

 _The blood of the innocents will be pay the price_

 _But no-one survives as the world turns as cold as ice._

 _Magnus watches, a piece in the games_

 _Snow is watching, each and every move we make.'_

Jessie reads the poem out-loud in her angelical voice, Myrnin's pacing begins to make me dizzy due to the sheer speed.

'This girl, she saw this?' Jessie snaps.

'She saw it.' Shane confirms.

'Well we may as well snap their necks and swallow silver.' Myrnin growls.

'You will do no such thing.' Oliver growls. 'We fight it. And we win.' He concludes.

'We can win.' Comes a breathy voice from behind Oliver. 'If we all stick together, and realise there is a lesser evil…' Miranda comes into view, her petite frame if anything looking even more minute.

'What do you mean child?' Oliver asks.

'Bishop.' She breathes.

'It's never candy is it?' Shane rasps.

'My father?' Amelie's voice echoes from down the hall.

 **Sorry about the delay in updates, but hopefully this twist makes up for it! Any ideas I'd love to hear and don't forget to leave a review!**


	17. Chapter 17

Amelie's POV 

'My Father?' I say totally disorientated. That foolish girl must be wrong, must have placed two uncorrelated pieces together, bending every edge to make them fit, my father is gone…Myrnin himself destroyed him.

'Silly, silly girl.' Myrnin chastises the girl; pacing on the heavy carpet, leaving a trail of footprints in his wake. 'There could be no possibility that the cruel elder Bishop could once again walk among us, at my own hand I made him fall, I turned the dirty _anwar_ to dust.' Myrnin spits the words at the young girl, his tone as lethal as a snake bite. I see her visibly flinch and cower into the side of one of the newer residents Jenna, I see her push Miranda discreetly behind her.

'Enough Myrnin.' I command in a voice laced with the power my blood line -and my blood line alone- can yield as a weapon. The whole group turns to look at me, all their eyes directed purely to my face, which I try to mask into the calm and worthy founder they are used to but by just looking at Oliver I can tell he can see behind the mask, and sees the fear laced with the anger which is slowly turning into confusion which is beginning to consume me. 'I know my good friend, you destroyed him- I bared witness enough to his worthy end.'

'Now just hang on a minute, he's been dead before right?' Claire's young man speaks, his voice vaguely sleepy, but his question pulls at some distant doubt, that's beginning to cloud my thoughts. I nod stiffly, raising my hand to pause Myrnin who is once again I presume going to rant. I watch Shane take a breath, his words come out slow as if he is debating with each word, carefully making sure his words cannot be construed in any other way. 'If he's done it before, he could do it…' But he's cut off mid-sentence with Myrnin's growl of fury, the young girl sleeping on Claire's shoulder whimpers in her sleep, though this does nothing to deter Myrnin.

'I KILLED HIM. I DESTROYED HIM. WE NEED TO FIND A WAY OUT, AND STOP TRYING TO FATHOM OUT POINTLESS RIDDLES THAT CAN UNDER NO POSSSIBITY BE EVEN REMOTELY TRUE!' He roars, making the child wail uncontrollably and every human in the room shy away from his temper. His breathing is ragged, and his chest is rising rapidly as if he is exhausted with exertion.

'But Miranda is yet to be wrong.' Claire whispers, holding the baby in one arm and gripping Shane's hand tightly with the other, as if needing the physical form of support. Myrnin glances in her direction, his face a torn expression of anger and frustration at their incompetence mixed with doubt, something not many would be able to decipher from his face. My own head is beginning to ache, a tension that I have come to relate purely to drama.

'Enough.' I say, my voice barely above a whisper; yet the whole room silences. 'What did you see?' I address the young girl, who only now that I'm closer to her do I see the bloodshot eyes and the slight tremor to her hand. 'Young prophetess, what is it that has made you believe my father is the only escape?' I place my hand on the young girl's shoulder, in which she visibly shivers whether that be due to my cold touch or my presence alone I'm not yet sure.

'Go on, its alright; do not worry sweetheart I'm here; they won't hurt you.' Jenna whispers in her ear, the young girls face softens and if anything her hand tightens on the ghost hunters.

'He may be cruel but he's the only one barbaric enough to save us all.' She whispers tears swimming in her eyes.

'What do mean Miranda?' Claire asks standing from her seat and moving close enough to grasp her other hand. The girl looks up to Claire, her eyes clouded with tears.

'He's the only one able to make the sacrifice.'

'What sacrifice?' Claire asks quickly her eyes swiftly glancing to Shane, Michael and Eve and her arm tightening around Annabelle.

'The pawns obviously.'

'Oh.' Claire breaths her voice unsteady.

'What does she mean? What is she saying?' I question, desperation alive on my tongue.

'Humans. The ones who have no protector. The ones no-one truly cares for. Those deemed as unimportant.' Claire doesn't answer my question, surprisingly its Eve who spits the words at me, as she sits burrowed into Michael's side- as I survey the group I'm surprised to find that not one of them is showing any of the previously obvious signs of tiredness- they are all wide-eyed and awake, I can almost hear their minds working over the information.

'Oh.' Is my only answer.

'Okay let's just rewind for a minute, I saw the dust of Bishop, I heard him die.' Michael states a look of confusion clear on his face. 'Miranda?' He addresses the girl, clearly trying to find an answer.

'Easy, she has to kill him.' Miranda answers.

'She?' Michael questions, but it's obvious; I look at Oliver and see that he too has come to the same conclusion as myself.

'It's me.' I say; without any form of emotion meeting my tone. Miranda just nods, as if she's quite proud of herself. 'You've saw all this haven't you?'

'No.' She shakes her head as if to emphasise her point. 'Just what is going help, I've not seen how it all pans out.' She smiles at me, like a student who has impressed her teacher, her dimples alarmingly clear in her petite face. 'Oh and…' She says after a few seconds of silence. 'You need to change me.' She states, in a tone as if she's asking for nothing more than the time.

'What?' Shane demands.

'Mir?' Eve questions.

'Miranda!' Jenna exclaims.

Each of their outburst are simultaneous to the next. All eyes are on the young girl, who merely shrugs at their outbursts.

'I can't stay like this. It isn't healthy or safe.' She raises her and Jenna's joint hands. 'This is all that's keeping me grounded, I can't go on for as long anymore without her…'

'But sweetie…' Jenna interrupts her, smiling down lovingly at her. 'I want to do this for you, it's okay.'

Miranda smiles up at Jenna but shakes her head. 'It can't go on, the connection I have won't last, I need The Glass House; being turned is my only hope… and really it's okay…I don't mind.' She finishes in a sigh.

'Wait a minute… you can't… she's a child…she…' Shane stutters. 'Jenna?' Shane concludes, looking helplessly at the now tearful woman.

'What can I do? She's seen it, I've learnt to trust what she sees.'

'Thank you.' Miranda says smiling, at the now crying television presenter. 'You can be normal again, and I won't be there with you constantly having to put me first, you can live your life again.'

'What you think this means I won't care? Miranda you could turn into one of the Draug and I would still love you! You are like a daughter to me, before all this happened I was talking to Oliver about adopting you…' Jenna finishes her voice tight with tears.

'You what?' Miranda turns suddenly to look at the woman, her own eyes seemingly bright.

'I want to adopt you; I want you to be my daughter.'

'And you'd be my mum?' Miranda questions as if the whole topic is foreign.

'Yes.' Jenna says with so much sincerity it rings like a bell.

'Oh.' Is Miranda's only reply as she throws herself into Jenna's arms, both of them dissolving into tears.

It reminds me suddenly of the basic human need for happiness, I'd seen it time and time again whenever a war or disaster hit the humans all rallied round, trying find some event that would make a smile. Vampires we're different it's about survival and ourselves, happiness doesn't really come into it when it's you against the world. Theo Goldman and his family is an oddity in itself, my father's sick, inhumane joke to turn a family, they're bonds alone make them able to love. Morganville made it okay for me to love, for all my vampires to make bonds because each day wasn't one in which we had to hide from what we truly were.

'What's up?' Comes a ruff voice from behind me.

'Rad my man… fatherhood becomes you!' Shane jokes.

'Huh?' The over muscled garage owner asks, staring somewhat curiously at the prophetess and the ghost hunter.

'Jenna just told us all about Miranda.'

'Oh that…' Rad replies, the tips of his ears going slightly red in embarrassment.

'What happened to us dude?' Shane asks, laughing.

'Women.' Rad replies, now openly chuckling.

'Really?' Claire questions, her own tone light and playful, as she hits Shane teasingly on the arm.

And for some reason their little exchange has everyone laughing, Jenna is hiccupping back sobs smiling as Rad makes his way over to her, his arms winding their way round first Jenna but then extending to include Miranda; Shane and Claire cuddle together the little girl still soundly sleeping; Michael and Eve are still burrowed together, with Michael's arm holding her close; even Jessie and Myrnin are holding hands, with Jessie close to Myrnin side. I find my own gaze going to Oliver, and as if he can read my thoughts he moves closer to me winding his arms around me, making me feel safe. And it's now in this moment that I know that Morganville has changed me, changed me so that even I need happiness and the closeness love can bring. We stand like this all cocooned into our own little bubbles of happiness… or should I say closeness for many minutes; in a comfortable silence everyone just taking some moments in the middle of this abyss to savour the simplest of thing- the ability to love and be loved. The silence is only broken by Miranda.

'You need to change me tonight.'

'What?' Jenna asks in surprise.

'It's safer and don't worry it won't hurt that much.' Miranda sooths.

'Miranda are you sure?' I question. 'The chance of the cure working is so slight, that there is no going back from this decision.'

'I'm sure, this is the way it has to be.'

'Okay.' I agree. 'Oliver grab some blood, meet me in the anti-chamber of my rooms.' Oliver nods, moving away from me before turning to mist as he runs. 'Come Miranda.'

'Miranda!' Jenna cries, still gripping onto the slight girl's arm.

'It's okay Jenna.'

And the girl walks away from the women's outstretched arms, as she thrashes to get free from Rad's grip, before dissolving into sobs; as Miranda doesn't look back.

'Get some sleep.' I say dismissing them. 'We will congregate in the morning.' I go to turn away only to catch the eye of the sobbing women, who is brawling into Rad's shoulder. 'I will look after her.' I sooth, though I know my words are ultimately pointless.

I walk down the corridor, making no attempt to make any contact to the girl, we are each in a bubble of sorrow. I myself do not know if this is the right thing to do, morality means a lot when someone can hold an eternal grudge. Though I know the girl has truth in her words and to not follow her command would lead to something I'm not ready for.

We enter the anti-chamber of my rooms, and I somewhat self-centredly look down at the Turkish rug which carpets the majority of the room, not one of my personal favourites but still I find myself somewhat irritated that it will have to be sacrificed. I shake myself visibly from that frame of mind, trying to focus myself wholly at the task at hand.

'I have the blood.' Oliver returns almost noiselessly making the young girl jump in surprise.

'Okay.' I say more to myself, trying to ready myself for what is to come. 'Are you sure?' I ask the girl again. She merely nods.

'Okay…Come.' I command.

The girl walks to me, as if she is no longer in control of her limbs. Grasping her by the shoulder I pull her towards me in a motion so fast she yelps. Pushing her hair to the side I reveal her bare neck, the best place to puncture, for both quickness and cleanliness. Without giving myself a second more to think about it, I bring my fangs down and bite into her neck, she screams as I begin the process...

A scream so fearful I almost stop. Almost.

 **Ta-da! All will make sense, any ideas I'm happy to hear and don't forget to leave a review!**


	18. Chapter 18

Shane's POV

'Rad no!' Jenna screams, her voice full of unshed emotion. 'We can't let her! She's a child!' Jenna continues to thrash in Rad's arms as he wraps them more snugly around her, his own eyes suspiciously full, as he just focuses on keeping his grip and hushing the totally distressed woman.

I stand with Claire watching the fall-out, fuck I've just seen a girl…a child go to become a vampire; and what is like a lethal injection to me is the fact that I didn't even attempt to stop it; I just watched her go. And that thought alone is like a cold shower, hitting every nerve ending in my body, making me feel sick to my very stomach, looking over at Michael I can see he has paled, his skin now almost as ice white as when he himself had took the bite.

'She had no choice though…' Claire murmurs. My eyes look down into Claire's, and I see so much sincerity that I know in my heart of hearts that nothing Claire will say next, is being said just because- for some unfathomable reason Claire has understood something all of us are far too preoccupied to even admit. 'She couldn't hold on…she wants to be free.'

'She's trapped in a house…' Eve says hollowly. 'Never being free unless she has you, and if she's right Jenna then that wouldn't of lasted much longer- maybe this her only option.'

'It was fading. The connection that is.' Myrnin's words catch me off guard, I would have thought they'd have left by now. 'Although your reluctant to admit just how weak the connection was, I myself have felt the tension, somewhat surprising that the energy you possess has enabled you to go on for as long.' He hypothesises.

'She's going to be a vampire!' Jenna brawls. 'How can that even be okay?'

'You had your chance to stop her.' Michael sooths. 'But you said you trusted her.'

'Yeah well I was wrong! She's a child, a child who has been through far too much!' Jenna fumes.

'We know.' Eve acknowledges. 'But she's strong always has been.'

'Always has been? Have you heard yourself? She was raped. Bitten. Parentless. Nearly homeless. No-one cared, that sick bastard who was supposed to be her protector used her, the paedophile was allowed to have rein over her and because he was vamp it was allowed! So don't tell me she's strong, she isn't strong; no she's just used to be used.' Jenna ends on a sob, hiding her face in Rad's shoulder as if it's her escape from the world.

We're all speechless, just staring at Jenna- all trapped in our own pit of self-torture because we knew.

 _It was years ago now. Miranda at our door bloodied and battered and almost dead. Michael had just gone off to clear up and sort his self out, its only looking back that I see just how strong he was as a vampire, he didn't spiral into a frenzy at the blood, he looked after her. Anyways I'd sent Claire away to look after Michael because one look at Eve said that we were thinking the exact same thing. She had bite marks in her neck, two fresh and about half a dozen that were crusted and healing. It was later that night whilst she slept on the couch that I saw the scarring -bite upon fucking bite that, the bastard had done. But what makes me want scream and punched a wall down in anger is that fact that, that night he raped her. Miranda had made it sound like the perfect first love but no it was nothing like that. The blood wasn't just coming from her head but from the scratches on her back, from the cuts on her arms- he'd ravaged her. Eve had taken her to the bathroom and according to her Miranda was in agony, he ripped her to shreds, never taken the curtesy to make her not feel the agony; and what's the worst part is that we had let her go… I'd woken up the next morning and she was gone and I was too preoccupied with myself to even give the girl a second thought. We'd all just gone on with our lives._

Just looking around me I can see the pain in everyone expression, I can see how each and everyone one of us feels guilty, and not that niggly type of guilt but that guilt which can only be described as stomach-turning. We left her, to look after ourselves. Just so that we could survive- how sick are we?

'Okay enough of this.' Myrnin says bringing an end to our blame circle. 'That is by-the-by now, the girl has made her choice and it is done- she will become one the eternal and that's the end of it but now we have to understand what she meant of Bishop…'

'I think we're going to call it a night…' Rad says awkwardly, now scooping a weeping Jenna into his arms. 'We'll see you in the morning…'

'Yes fine go.' Myrnin says immediately dismissing them, to focus on us.

'Actually...' I say before Myrnin can begin his monologue. 'I think we all need some sleep…'

'Fine. I'll do it myself.' He growls, irritated by the thought of people sleeping in the middle of such a disaster.

'No you too Myrnin.' Jessie says soothingly. 'We'll start again in the morning, okay?' Taking his hand, she leads him down one of the many corridors; neither of them stopping to wish us a good night.

'Well…' Michael sighs. 'Two Thirty in the morning, and I'm wrecked; sleep anyone?'

'Hell yeah!' I laugh.

'Finally!' Claire adds.

'I'm already asleep!' Eve laughs.

We're bumping shoulders, and trying to find some place to lay Annabelle down for the night when I hear the scream.

'Shit.' I breath.

It echoes off every-wall, it finds it place in my heart that I never knew I had; Claire freezes pulling a sobbing Annabelle to her chest trying to ward off her fear. Eve has sunken to the fall, her arms over her eyes. Me and Michael are just staring at one and other. It lasts only seconds but the pain in that scream is horror-filled.

'Oh sweetie…' Eve breathes.

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	19. Chapter 19

Jessie's POV

I've lived among humans for a while now, and it still amazes me their ability to care. And I know that sounds rather cold of me but vampires don't care, we are one being that dotes purely on our own survival no-matter of the cost. Cold? Yes. True? Sadly, also yes.

Yet their tears over that girl, had the ability to bring a lump to my throat; the care and the change in the atmosphere around them- I could almost feel their emotions on my tongue; the turmoil and bitter regret, it was horrifyingly twisted taste.

Myrnin and I are lying in our bed, him curled around me like a spoon. Never did I imagine a life like this, minus the Draug, I'm actually loved and adored- who would have even thought it. But what keeps me from the escape of sleep is the fact that I can't seem to find it in me to let go of the emotion I felt in that room, can't escape the glorified horror that infilled each and every one of them. Something I never felt before, even with Pete his emotions never affected me; even professor Anderson it was never this strong. I heard the girl's scream, heard it echo. Not one to gloat but I'm normally powerful, normally freakishly self-centred but some part of me is just screaming that this isn't right. That this girl should not have to be our sacrifice.

I've met Bishop many moons ago, a cold wicked man who would do almost anything to extend his life by even a matter of seconds; and something about this girl- even in her half-existence- having to lose her humanity to save us makes me think we're all like Bishop, in a twisted and sick sense. And that thought lies heavy in my stomach, creates a lump in my throat and a fog I'm yet to clear over my judgement; Myrnin has always been a little odd, all too caring of those around him but me… no I'm cold only Myrnin before I met Pete brought out the small part of my human emotion that still was harboured in my-self; and what is haunting my sleep more than even that girl's sacrifice is that idea that been placed inside my head of what would I have become if I had never gripped on so tight to that little row boat in the harbour would I have been as corrupted and blood-hungry as Elder Bishop?

'Lady Grey?' Myrnin whispers into the night, next to be me; beginning to kiss at my throat. I smile and allow my body to relax to his sensual assault, as with each sweep of sensation that runs through me I'm reminded just how different I am to the man- or should I say animal.

Amelie's POV

My father. Master Bishop. Each of those send a shiver down my spine, makes me feel nauseous; make me want to rip the hair from my head in a mixture of anger and upset. But no I can't afford to feel, I can't afford anything but to accept that the man who can save us all is also the one who can destroy everything; can rip my town apart piece by piece.

Hearing his name proclaimed as our saviour made my lungs expand, making me gag- made me shout his name. All I can think is why would he come back if it wasn't for revenge? Actually as alternative as it can be I now think how would one in which we turned to dust be back to save us?

My father was never a nice man; he was hungry for somethings he should have never been. He hated my mother, a weak woman who he impregnated mere days before his conversion; she was Queen, the true Queen; my fathers' thrown only came because of my dear mother parentage- that's why he was with her, that is for why he didn't just leave to find someone more suited. Doing my youth my 'dearest' father would open up the palace doors, for the weak, the homeless or the poor for a coin they would queue to sell their body to me father… this is where you find out he was just as cruel, if not a million times crueller to the women who so desperately needed a coin to survive… Their screams I can still hear so many centuries, even more than a millennium later, as he ravaged them but still they would come back and queue for the privilege of being able to feed their families; Bishop liked those nights, liked being so in control- normally his day would have started with some long and dreary speech in which he lapped up the rich with a few chosen words, and ravaged the poor, making the majority exceptionally poorer. But the afternoon was when he played judge, jury and executioner; his stats were the highest, majority of crime- even the pettiest- had the something bloody as a sentence. Loss of a finger? Or an arm? But his favourite was death, a swift blow of a sword. The bodies left, so he could drink them dry.

He changed me, late in my youth, around the point of the rebellion; where I was to be made Queen. I never made it to the throne, he bit me and changed me and raped me. My virginity, my humanity and my courage was all taken away in less than the time it takes to make tea. I was his newest and most favoured toy, one he could play with, long after all the others got tired or were worn out of use. I learnt to not fight him, scar upon scar on my body are the beauty marks left by that man, when he would pin me to floor, the bed, the wall; rip my clothes to shreds with his hands, nails or even teeth and push himself into me- even when I would scream.

So it profoundly petrifies me what he will do, and how he will try to manipulate us all in to pieces on his chess board- I'm no longer his pawn. What comes next is down to me, right?

The girls change, is still fresh in my mind. Her pain was tangible; it burnt me. Yet her conversion was not one of difficultly, so smoothly was converted my Turkish rug was even spared. How pitiful of me, especially when my safe haven may be already on route to destruction.

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	20. Chapter 20

Monica's POV

Do you know what I think? I think we're all fool. Yeah that's right, each and every one of us are fools. To have stayed here, to have thought we were save, a bunch of fools. When has Morganville ever been safe? So pathetic that we took a few years of safety as to mean that Morganville was safe, like fuck.

I remember back when I would get Brandon to do the dirty work for me, get him to scare anyone who even came a breath too close for my comfort. Yeah those were the days when I was the powerful queen bee, when I had a Father who was Mayor of Morganville, a brother who was in the police; no one stepped a toe wrong except me. That's more than likely the key to my selfish and self-centred ways.

In every disaster that this town has had, not one has left its scar like the draug, Richard was everything to me; my protector but also the only person who knew me like no-one else ever will. He was more than just a big brother, he was my mum and dad too. He took care of me when my mother turned to a shell after my father death, he was there before that too when my parents were too busy mingling with the higher classes to pay any attention to their tear-away daughter. He was there the night of Shane's fire, when I'd teased Shane with BIC lighter trying to show him just how ballsy I was- what I didn't know was Alyssa was still inside. I'd cried all that night, and all the next few days because all I could envisage was mine and Shane's roles reversed and him teasing me with a lighter when Richard was still trapped inside. It was Richard who played my father into allowing the Collins' to leave town, he was worried that Shane would do something stupid, or probably that I'd do something even stupider.

I wasn't always that bad, I'd been sweet like any other kid; naive about people's rash opinions and all the other crap that comes with growing up. For the first few years of school I did what I was told, had loads of friends and was liked because that was before everyone was labelled, and people started to have views on what was right and wrong. And I was wrong all because of my Dad, and what being mayor meant in a town so very much haunted. I was bullied something rotten, emotionally tormented, physically pushed around. I'd sport a black eye, or have a slight limp where someone had pushed me- all because of who I was. It was couple of years later that I fought back, the first girl I punch was a chubby girl, named Tamara Wilde, I remember the pain radiating in my hand after the punch but seeing her crying and apologising to me somehow made all the pain just disappear. After that I kinda went to the extreme; I'd hurt anyone, literally anyone who got in my way. It was all one big defence, because all I really wanted was to be accepted.

So now I'm the outcast, the money I had means nothing when compared with my loneliness so now I work in an office in town hall, something I would never have achieved if it wasn't for both my father and Richard. It's okay, yes people still give me a wide eyed look but I feel I'm paving the way to them accepting me- something my brother wished me to do time and time again, I can only hope he can see me now.

Weirdly now the only thing missing is the comfort of family and being loved, I no longer traipse around with a brain-less jock on my arm, actually I haven't dated in years; haven't had the strength to try and forge a relationship with anyone when I didn't even know who I truly was myself. As if it's one of those pathetic fable tales, the moral of my story is to never be the bitch because now really all I want is to be like the girl whose life I made hell. Claire has everything, when I have nothing. So really this 'disaster' is pointless and meaningless to me as what do I have to live for? I haven't shown my face in days, just hid in the little room I called my own when we all came recluses in this one, somewhat safe building.

Look at me, once the queen now what am I? A mid-twenties loner, whose only friend is the bottom of an empty gin bottle. Pathetic. Really what do I have to live for?


	21. Chapter 21

Claire's POV

'This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed at home, this is little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none and this little piggy went weee all the way home!' Shane's voice echoes around the room, so very different from the gruff voice I'm more than used to, Annabelle's high pitched giggle makes my smile somewhat brighter, the noise is as sweet as wind chimes. At some point in the few meagre hours sleep we had, a trunk of items arrived in the entry way to the door; a mismatch of random clothes and oddments for Annabelle. Looking at some of her own tiny possession makes my eyes prickle with tears, in the corner of the trunk had been a small pink Peppa Pig backpack, with her name emblazed brightly in glitter to show her ownership. Inside had been an assortment of all kinds of things, all her own. A couple of pacifiers, a book of nursery rhymes (which her and Shane are both contently now reading), along with a couple of pull-up pants and a teddy bear- a teddy bear that upon seeing Annabelle squealed loud enough to alarm both myself and Shane, but her smile was bright enough to light up an entire room, Bubba she calls it.

But now I'm just trying to find some order to all the random stuff that came this morning, a weird formula thing for her, some toddler food and a mountain of clothes that seem to show all the stages of fashion from somewhere in the fifties. Although that isn't such a bad thing as some of the dresses are beyond adorable, pink floral print is even appropriate in the middle of this war.

War. That's what this is, we can sugar-coat it as much as we want but it's a war and one of us, two, three even all of us could not make it out. That's what hurts because as much as we all want to make it through, if one of us was to be killed especially Shane I don't think life would be worth it…but no positive thinking is that we're going to survive going to make it through.

Myrnin wants us all in the lab in an hour, wants to try something- all I'm hoping is that it's nothing as drastic as last time. I think the whole theory now is that we need a way of attacking them, of making them weak… because as much as we don't want to admit it battling Magnus again isn't going to be pretty, not going to be pretty at all.

Last time I'd died, like actually died!

Do you have any idea how weirdly weird that is to even say?

I watched people lose their minds nearly, I watched Shane nearly put a bullet in his brain- that's an image I'll never forget! And for all that I said to him, all that I told him he couldn't do that just because I was gone, in that situation I don't know whether if our roles had been reversed I'd have acted any differently…

Bishop coming back is another thing that's playing Double Dutch in my mind, I can't seem to rubbish the idea that adding him to the mix is just like added more trouble too our already awful cocktail.

'One tea, one coffee and a shi…load of breakfast!' Eve declares as her and Michael push through the doors into our room, each handling over-following trays. 'Can she have something?' Eve says indicating to Annabelle. 'Like I brought croissants, some toast, a few crumpets even some cookies… I wasn't totally sure.' She ends a little breathless.

I look down at Annabelle then turn my eyes too Shane, realising I don't actually know. 'She should be okay right; she has some teeth…' I say questioningly.

'Small bites?' Shane says, picking up one of the croissants and ripping off a small piece, before handing it to our daughter in his lap, Annabelle doesn't even debate it; her chubby hand takes the food from Shane popping it in her mouth whole, before swiftly chewing and swallowing.

'mor?' She says expectantly to Shane, leading us all to dissolve in laughter.

'Yeah baby girl…' He says tearing off more strips and placing them in one of the plastic bowls I found earlier in the trunk. 'Guess that's that problem solve, right?' He says giving the bowl to Annabelle.

'Peppa!' She squeals loudly, seeing the picture on the bowl.

'Yeah Peppa!' Shane says with fake enthusiasm. 'We need to get up to date on these cartoons like.' Shane muses, eyeing the pig on the bowl wearily.

'Dude let's just survive first then we can watch all the cartoons you want!' Michael jokes.

'Yeah cause they aren't going to get boring, right?' Eve animatedly adds before taking a humongous bite of toast, lathered in jam and butter.

'Don't even start remember the Buffy reruns when you first got the DVD?' Shane says good naturedly.

'Buffy reruns?' I question, already smiling at what I know is going to be a good story.

'Yeah buffy…' Shane begins only to be cut off by Eve.

'Dude don't say you didn't love it!' She says, spraying her mouthful of toast.

'Not on the ninth time through! Claire I got her the DVD from a friend of mine and honestly it was like hell- every night for like two weeks we were watching Buffy! Only so much a guy can take, before he becomes a chick!'

'What's wrong with being a chick?' I say straight-faced.

'Yeah?' Eve adds, staring at Shane, a trace of a smile in her eyes.

'D-ude.' Michael says, taking a large drink of his coffee and biting into a croissant. The silence drags on a second, all I'm trying to do is not give up to my giggles.

'Whoopsie daddy…' Annabelle says looking at Shane. 'You did 'aughty.' Her expression alone pushes me over the edge as both me and Eve burst out laughing, Shane's composure I can see is slipping as he tries to remain sincere in order to play along with Annabelle.

'Yep Shane you did 'aughty…' Michael says chuckling, holding out his hand for Annabelle to high five, instead she just raising her arms in Michael direction, needing no more than that Michael swings her onto his lap, giving her a cookie from the tray.

Anyways…' I say, swallowing back a laugh. 'Any idea what Myrnin wants? He says he wants us there by nine.'

'You're the one with the mad scientist for a boss, if you don't know I dread to think…' Eve says, faking a shiver.

'Hmm, I know…' I murmur thoughtfully.

'Right before we go and see bipolar man, I think we should probably think about what happened last night.' Shane says bringing an end to my turmoil over Myrnin.

'Guys there was nothing we could do.' Michael says, looking between Eve and me before finally settling his eyes on Eve. 'She saw it, and she was going to do it even if we all held her back, one thing I know about that girl is that she isn't what she seems, she isn't some stupid teenager… she never has been.' He adds.

'But all that time we knew what Charles was doing to her, hell I saw it and I did nothing!' Eve wails, her eyes suspiciously full. 'She was a kid and we did nothing, how sick is that?'

Eve's words lie heavy in the air, heavy enough that we all sit in silence, Michael not even commenting when Annabelle smears melted chocolate down his shirt front. It's true we all knew, but she was so forward and didn't listen, ever. Like I had to literally use myself as a barrier once to make her wait while Eve made her food because for some reason I'm completely oblivious too she knew she couldn't stay- she was sixteen and alone in Morganville and fact is we could have changed that…

'Do you ever arrive on time?' Myrnin says as he barges in the door, making it swing shockingly on its hinges. My eyes find the clock only for me to realise we've been sitting in silence for over thirty minutes and Michael now had chocolate smeared on his cheek, whilst Annabelle is like a chocolate covered monster, something Myrnin finds intensely amusing.

'Tywysoges…' He murmurs to her, taking one of her hands in his own, Annabelle's eyes never even leave Myrnin's face, as he strokes her face before addressing us all.

'Lateness we cannot afford, I myself have found a weapon, a weapon we had last…' But he's interrupted by a voice that makes me want to run and hide.

'A weapon my fool, who needs a weapon.' Bishops voice echoes into our chambers.

'Cachu.' Myrnin breathes reaching for Jesse.

The door swings open and there he stands…

'Oh my god.' Eve says faintly.

There he stands with a drained body tight in his grip.

 **He's back! Don't forget to review…**


	22. Chapter 22

Claire's POV

For some God awful reason, I feel myself dry-wretch, feel my whole body convulse into the gagging, which I have no control of. In the years I've lived in Morganville I've seen some horrifying things but for some reason this just pushes me to the edge, makes my entire body feel as if its mutilated, and ghastly.

'Mama…' Annabelle's voice is unsure. Her voice wobbling as she tries to finish her word. 'Mama?' She says again her whole body, turned in the direction of Bishop.

'Oh god…' Eve's words are a mumble to my ears, as I turn and look at Bishop, and what -or rather who- he is holding. The woman is burned and so very badly disfigured but there is no doubt in my mind of who she is, because just a couple of days ago she gave me her child, seconds before she died.

'Mama!' Annabelle screams in desperation, trying unsuccessfully to struggle free of Michael's grip. Bishop's laughter fills the room, enveloping us in a cocoon that strips me back years, to when I was young and naïve to just how bad vampires can really be. He shakes the woman like a rag doll, her soot blackened hair swings back like a mop, to reveal the shear enormity of her injuries, a face that is in honesty no longer existent, eyes that are no-longer seeing- a body riddled with maggots, maggots that are everywhere.

'Just thought I'd finish the scraps.' Bishop says in a tone laced with underlying cruelty, as he licks his lips with a too pale tongue. 'The big pile out back, could smell them from miles away.' He heartedly laughs again, making the hairs on my arms stand tall as I fight another bout of nausea, as it dawns on me that to retrieve the bodies he has in fact dug up the grave, the grave of all those who were killed just a couple of days back.

'Where's Amelie?' Shane whispers close to my ear, tickling it with his lips. I shrug without comment, and turn to look at him, feeling our hands go tight in each other's grip, and for some of the fear to ease its way from me, as I feel Shane beside me.

'Bishop we thought you well and truly dead this time!' Myrnin says, causing us all to gasp aloud and take a large step away from Bishop, and Myrnin, after a few seconds of silence Myrnin continues. 'You disappoint me old man, never one to lose his words.' Bishop smiles a slow, haunting smile, and throws the body like a doll across the room, where it hits the brick wall with a dull thump.

'MAMA!' Annabelle, squeals at the top of her voice, her face a mask of tears. 'MAMA!' She screams again, renewing her efforts to fight her way free of Michael's grip. For some unforeseen reason I had not in my mind connected Annabelle's mother with the corpse, only as the woman who gave me her child, Annabelle's wailing makes my heart hurt, makes my stomach twist as I see my poor little baby hurting so badly.

'Why we seem to have caused something unfortunate, haven't we?' Bishop says smiling, showing all his teeth especially his fangs which in the glint of light look more like polished bone. Annabelle's screams are growing in volume, getting higher in pitch, until she's all that can be heard in the room. Bishops slow, nasty smile takes a sudden edge as he snaps 'Shut it up, or I'll shut it up.' Ending with a smile showing every inch of fang. Michael pulls Annabelle closer, hushing her and rocking her close to his body to absolutely no effect. I feel Shane tug away from my hand, as I turn I see him moving slowly towards Michael -trying to show Bishop he means no harm- he reaches his hands down to Annabelle, who with a sob reaches back.

'Daddy…' She whimpers, as Shane pulls her close and move back to my side; I place a hand on her back and rub soothing circles as Shane whispers in her ear, rocking her back and forth. Her wails quieten down, with her hiccupping sobs being the only noise in the room.

'So?' Bishop says questionably to us, looking from one set of eyes to another, just long enough for fear to make itself know in the pit of the stomach, as his eyes flash over me I look away quickly- yet not quick enough as I feel the all too familiar stabbing of fear embracing me like an old friend.

'So?' Jessie asks back, half hidden behind Myrnin.

'Don't be pathetic, you fools!' He bellows, making Annabelle whimper to which he addresses with a threatening stare. 'Why do I find you codling your own wounds, hidden away? Why?' He shouts again louder; as a shout even grander enraptures us all.

'They are not fools father!' Amelie's shout silences Bishop, as she graces her way into the opening. 'They are just too very much aware of what is to come when your involved.' She finishes as if it's just another conversation.

'So very petty. So very foolish to hide when one at war.' Bishop spits at Amelie, smirking with distaste.

'Do you not remember what you taught me? I know all about end games Father, or have you had a memory lapse? Because last time I won, my town won.' She snarls back, her face losing the easy femininity to be replaced with an animalistic mask, her eyes flashing red.

'You're a fool daughter, you're an idiotic fool.'

'I may be so to you, but I will be your downfall…' She says as Bishop lets out a howl of pain, and I hear an almost silent click of what sounds almost like handcuffs. 'You will be of use father, but only when you have learnt to be civil.' She says in a snarl, as Bishop howls again as she steps back from him, holding a syringe, that until seconds ago had been invisible to the naked eye.

'A shot of silver should subdue you… at least long enough for us to find you a nice dark pit to rot in.' She spits again, her face contorting with rage.

'Foo…foo…' Bishop tries but fails to say, as he begins to cough and gag with every few seconds, heavy wet coughs that wrack his body.

'No…' Comes an almost distant voice from the door way. 'No.' It comes again stronger. I look to the door but I'd know that voice anywhere. Miranda. Vampirism has made what little colour she had disappear, she's alabaster white with an almost primal grace to her movements, which are now full of panic and unease. 'No.' she repeats again, as if she is a record on loop.

'Take him.' Amelie says to the guards when Bishop starts to howl louder, with an almost unstopping flow of blood seeping from his every orifice.

'Amelie this is not how it meant to be…' Miranda tries.

'Silence child.' Amelie says.

'You can't… this isn't right.' She screams. I almost don't see the slap; Amelie's hand is as quick as a scorpion's sting. Miranda acts as if nothing happens as she watches Amelie walk away.

'We're all fools.' She murmurs. 'We're all going to die.' She concludes.


	23. Chapter 23

Eve's POV

Miranda just keeps screaming 'it's all wrong', and that Bishop shouldn't be encased like Amelie has done. I just can't take my eyes off the drape covered body that's lying at the other end of the room, it's like every horror I've ever lived through, because that was Annabelle's mother, and she has just had to see the remains of her flung across the room like a rag doll, all mutilated flesh and blank eyes. It's all a bit too much like those video games Shane loves, and all I want to do is press reset and take us all back to the very beginning before we had all this to worry about, before we were being hunted by one and taking prisoner of another. I can't see how Miranda is right, but some part of me is screaming that she is and that we are making the biggest mistake by not letting Bishop take control; that thought alone makes me more scared than I can even say because when he is the one who can save us, just how dangerous does that make what we are facing? I truly thought he was the incarnation of evil but apparently I'm superiorly wrong.

'Miranda will you give it a rest!' Shane shouts from across the room, where him and Claire sit with Annabelle trying to find some way in which to sooth her, the poor kid is sobbing her heart out; she has no way of understanding why her mama is not getting up…man this sucks.

'Miranda!' Shane shouts again louder, glaring evils at her. 'Put the fangs away and shut up!' _Well that's one way of saying it, I suppose._

Miranda just looks at Shane, her eyes flashing a glowing red; on her it looks so far from supernatural, it looks like she took the wrong turn and has jumped wholly on the crazy train.

'You might not believe it Shane but I'm right.' Miranda folds her arms over her chest, making me want to snigger at just how young she looks and just how much she is not proving her point. 'He will try to kill us all, but them outside they **will** kill us all and then what we going to do? Come on Shane you want to give me an answer?' There is dead silence, and I emphasise dead rather sourly, for like a minute enough to make me shuffle on my feet. 'Thought not, so don't try to pretend you have all these answer because I know you don't, I know fine well that you have no idea what so ever what we're going to do next. They killed a bus load of people in seconds, what will it take them to kill all of us Shane? A minute? Or two? We'd be cold before they'd even dissolve back into the ground, all of us- Vampire and human!' She shouts, loud enough to make me stare at her in open shock; I've known Miranda for years ever since she saved my life instead of her sisters, since then I've never been able to ignore her or think that her visions were that of fiction and it's that which is pulling at me like a noose to the neck when I even think about dismissing her obvious plea for us to listen, and to understand that she is right.

'Mir…' I say taking a deep breath. 'Hunny what did you see? Why you so scared?'

'You don't want to know.' She says so very bluntly to me, a sharp set of words that wound so badly it's as if I've been shot. It's the fact not one word held any form of emotion, so deprived of life and love; and I know now in my heart whatever she has saw is so very barbaric, and so very painful; that's why she is so very, very damaged because these visions are a lifetime of therapy, of which what she sees wounds her ego and plays punch bag to her heart and her mind; and back then when she struggled to tell the difference between a dream and a reality, she was making herself a prime target for all the craziness. _Which is a hell of a lot, considering you know vampires._

'I believe you Miranda, I really do.' I say looking at her, apart from her skin she's the same small girl that I've known for all these years; and her eyes despite the flashing red are still so very full of fear, so very afraid of the unknown which she sees so very clearly in her mind. Her smile now is very weak, but it's a start…it's a start.

'Eve…' Michael says next to me, taking my hand. 'Are you sure?' He asks watching me with a very guarded expression. 'It's Bishop, you saw what he did last time…' They're all looking at me, watching me trying to discover whether I'm maddened or if I understand something all the rest of them don't.

'I know Mike; I know baby but just trust me.' I say, pleading with my eyes for him to understand, for him to see what I see.

'I do trust you but Eve it's him…' His voice is like liquid gold, so very smooth and soft but with a harden edge.

'Whatever she saw…' I say stumbling over my words, I cough and look at my friends and start again. 'Whatever she saw is right, I know it.' I say with all the conviction I can so very much muster.

'Mir, I know you don't want to but we need to know… what did you see?' Claire's voice is hesitant, as if this is the last thing she wants to do but she's right despite what Miranda thinks we need to know, for our sanity at the very least.

'Please Mir…' I say.

'Oh…' She says with a sob, and that face is not vampire it's a child so very, very scared. 'They know… they know us.' She says so very simply.

'What?' I say.

But interrupted by Claire's scream.

'MAGNUS!' Her tone is so very horrified.

I spin round, and there he is, right where Annabelle's mama was.

'Foolish child.' Magnus says, in a tongue so eclipsed in water; each word a flurry of sounds.

He's looking directly at Miranda.

I scream.


	24. Chapter 24

Claire's POV

 _No. No. No._

It's not logical. It's not possible. But he's here, prowling like a lion trying to capture its prey; and we are trapped. The body… wasn't a body- he was there, that was him…

 _How?_

My scream is still echoing in my head, but his words are etched into my brain. Miranda knows something, something he didn't want us to ever know, and by the looks of things we're never going to know.

'Miranda!' Eve shouts, at our friend- after everything she's our friend finally. 'Tell us, now!' Her tone is desperate, each word a mumble due to the sheer speed at which she is speaking. 'Miranda!' She shouts again, urging her tirelessly to comply, so that we know… although honestly I've given up hope of coming out of this alive.

'Mir please.' Shane says from beside me, his hatred of the girl has never been hidden but right now that's all a distant memory; he knows it too, we need her.

Miranda's head turns towards us, her eyes scrutinising Shane but she must find something she likes because she smiles the sad, hopeless smile we've all came to witness and understand.

'Foolish girl, you will not speak another word!' Magnus shouts, his voice washes over me like a bitterly cold gale. He is as cavernous as I remember, so beyond the human façade that the vampires use; his eyes are dull and darkened, an abyss that's is endlessly blackened and rotten. Everything about him makes my neck ache, and my breathing become shallow and my insides scream for me to run as far away as possible, but I know I have not one chance- and I can't because the people I love are in this room, in this building and nothing will ever make me walk away without them, we've been together too long for that. Magnus moves as if bodiless, as if he is a projection- Mir was right they are weaker, whatever they have done has made them less substantial than last time. He's closing rank on Miranda, moving closer and closer to her; caging her in like a prisoner.

'I'd ridded myself of you last time, yet of some unfathomable reason here you stand- I will again have to eradicate you.' His words act like a cold shower, awakening every single nerve ending in my body, making me shiver and my breathing become even more ragged. His voice is almost a gargle, which only makes it a million times scarier.

'Mir!' Eve screams again.

'Bishop. Blood. Silver. Amelie. They can do this together, he needs ripped apart and burned to pieces.'

'Mir what do you mean?' I shout, her words make no sense they are like a riddle in which I can find no answer.

'Bishop he drank from him!' Michael shouts in euphoria. 'He's… even more dangerous.'

'Michael your right! Please remember that.'

Magnus is moving like a ghost, closer and closer each time I blink; Miranda is frozen in place her eyes flashing between the brilliant blue to a dark and haunting red. Her hands are in fists next to her sides, her pale skin is almost translucent in the light, she glows so bright its almost blinding. But her face is set and strong, not a hint of the girl we turned our heads from so many times.

'Stop.' Miranda says, suddenly holding up a hand; Magnus in obvious surprise pauses his step, looking somewhat befuddled. 'Do not fear.' She whispers 'I'm here.' I look to Shane, seeing his face set, and his arms tight around Annabelle; his face is probably a replica of my own- confusion. Miranda's words are of no meaning, are so outrageously random.

'What?' I say somewhat weakly, my voice breaking.

'Don't let them win.' She says and then with a smile adds. 'Oh and Claire you can do this.' Her gaze is piercing but as abruptly as Magnus stopped, he's there almost touching Miranda, she will probably be able to feel his rotten breath in her face, and the damp stench that is so strong which his 'body' radiates. She shows nothing in her face, and meets Magnus's eyes, she doesn't flinch- the only indication of her distress is her eyes flashing abruptly red, the red of freshly spilt blood.

'Your weak.' She says to him, her gaze not wavering from his. 'And they'll find out your secret and you'll be gone.' She taunts, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

'But not from you.' He says, his breath blowing into her face as he stresses each syllable.

'No.' She says as he proceeds closer, his hand grabbing her wrist; she whimpers in pain as Magnus begins to feed. Annabelle whimpers too, to which Shane shushes her urgently. Mir's teeth clench tight together with an audible snap, her eyes scrunch against the pain as she makes soft moans emphasising the agony she is experiencing as Magnus thoroughly ensnares her, patiently preying on her, playing with her until death stakes it's claim.

'Silver.' Miranda whimpers. 'Silver and fire...'

'You bitch.' Magnus howls before Mir can finish, thoroughly submerging Miranda; within seconds she is nothing more than bones, that make a dry thud as they hit the ground.

'Impossible.' Amelie. I turn and see her standing in the archway.

'My dear lady.' Magnus says his voice laced with humorously cruel sarcasm; he bows low his whole form moving in a way that make me feel slightly nauseous. 'I will take my leave.'

And then he just disintegrates, into wet sludge that melts itself into the heavy carpet.

This is when my knees give way, and I hit the floor.

 _Mir._ Is my only thought.

 **Reviews please.**


	25. Chapter 25

Eve's POV

'What?' My voice sounds weak to my own ears. He literally disintegrated into the carpet…ewww. Right in front of my eyes, right in front of Amelie and Oliver. And don't even begin with what happened with Miranda, her bones lie cold in a jenga style pile; right where she stood, minutes ago.

'Get guards at all exits, cover every room, window and door!' Oliver barks at the guards who entered behind him and Amelie. His cold persona is back; the black leather coat he wears makes his pallor even more shocking, his skin glows almost luminous in the harsh light thrown from the overhead fixtures. His grey streaked ponytail, makes his features as sharp as a serrated edge, next to Amelie he looks stronger than any warrior and a million times more powerful. 'Use any vampire or human able, that bastard cannot get back in and seal every entrance, no-one comes in or out without me knowing.'

'Yes Oliver.' The tallest guard says, signalling silently for the other to follow him out, they both bow their heads to Amelie before walking out the room, with the speed only the undead can achieve.

'My father again…' Amelie murmurs, she is the polar opposite of Oliver's darkness. Her pant suit is of the palest pink, tightly cut as to give the impression of curves on her petite frame that must be non-existent, her hair is in her signature crown through tendrils of hair have fought their way free, and hang losing framing her face; making her look margining younger and marginally smaller and defenceless. Her face is a mask of prettiness, her ageless face shows no sign of the inner turmoil, the only indication of her distress is her eyes. The endless grey is tinged with the sting of red, which she is repeatedly blinking back, her long lashes making those abyss' of eyes look even more dangerous, as if they harbour a creature so dark and mysterious, she needs to keep it hidden inside.

'I calculated wrong.' She stops for a moment and looks around the room, her eyes touching on Miranda's bones. 'She told me, she said I was wrong and I didn't believe her.' She eulogises, closing her eyes she takes a deep breath; before opening her eyes and releasing the cold anger sealed within; the red glows like a heavenly jewel but is as alarming as a knife being held to my throat.

'What do we do?' I whisper into Michael's side, pulling myself as close as physically possible; as if I can hide myself away from the truth of the last few minutes. I don't expect a reply but Amelie surprises me with her honesty.

'We listen to the girl. We listen to everything…even my father.' The words stumble out of her, as if they are the verbal worst nightmare she can only imagine.

'You sure my queen?' Oliver asks, placing a nurturing hand on her shoulder to which she doesn't recoil, instead she turns to face him. Even I can feel the intimacy from across the room; the subtle touch of her hand on his, and the delicate way he runs his hand down the length of her cheek; the look they share as if they can see into the other soul.

'Yes.' Her word is strong, so much unlike how she looks in this moment.

I feel myself shiver, against Michael and burrow closer; something in me understands this is wrong or possibly right but I have no way of finding the difference yet. Do you know what it feels like to be shaking on the inside, because that's what I feel now- like a shaken can of soda, full of energy that has no way of escaping.

I look over to Claire and Shane, and they are frozen. Shane is a statue watching Amelie and Oliver with a guarded and almost ridiculing expression, whilst Claire hasn't even blinked from looking at Miranda's bones, slight tears are streaming down her pale cheeks. I feel that way too but for some reason I can't make the tears come, they are bound up of pressure behind my eyes but for nothing can I make them spring free.

'So what now?' Michael asks, hugging me impossibly close- his chin resting on my head. 'What do we have that we can even begin to do to control not just the draug but Bishop? Amelie you know he is lethal; he is destruction in a bottle- you let him loose he is never going to come back.' Michael's tone is harsh, like that really bitter grape at the end of every pack. I look over at Amelie to see her standing with Oliver, her face slightly turned away; as if she is in discussion with Oliver through eye-contact alone.

'It chess.' Claire's voice takes on a tone as ethereal as Miranda's was; as if she is a million miles away.

'Chess?' I question my own voice, tightened in shear curiosity.

'You have to take a risk, right Amelie? Give the opponent a chance to strike then you have an end game.' Claire's voice is anything but strong; her eyes have never moved from Miranda's body, but her whole body is projecting a vibe of solitude.

'Yes child.' Amelie says, walking away from Oliver to Claire, placing one of her pale, well-manicured hands on her shoulder. 'We have to listen to the girl. We have to remember this is a war.'

Claire's sobbing starts almost momentarily, a heavy wracking sob that seems to vibrate through the entire room.

'Hush child.' Amelie says, moving her hand gently on Claire's back. 'We are forever at war.' Amelie takes a long breath. 'Release my father and have him meet us here.'

I think we all take a rather large breath.


	26. Chapter 26

I stand at the silver coated bars, watching the cruel and destructive monster sit most pathetically in the steel chair; as if it was a royally approved throne. If anyone else had of asked me to release this beast of a vampire from his cage, I would have made it my duty to stop them at any cost, even if that resulted in me giving them a cold and calculated death. I would do anything to protect the world from the most soul-less being I've ever had the infortune to greet, but she asked me- and despite the screaming in my head I'm helpless to her; not through a mythical power but the age old companionship of love. Our conjoined power mixed with this commanding flood of emotions makes a lethal concoction- almost euphoric in a sickening sense.

'Oliver of Heidelberg.' His address sends a most unwanted shiver of fear throughout me, almost as strong as the sting of an unexpected taser. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, calming my unexpectedly frazzled nerves at the sheer idea of releasing a man who could harm… actually harm is too weak of a word… a man who could if given a second destroy everything we've tried to build and everything I've came to care so profoundly for.

'Bishop.' My tongue recoils at the word, but one should not anger those who come to give help even if its regretfully an enemy many times over.

'I feel the niceties are lost on you, though I feel the crucial nature of my help should make you eager to please me Oliver… although from the what I hear you're already pleasing my daughter…'

I growl low in my throat subconsciously, and feel the sharp tug of my fangs descending and the snarl that is released from my lips is the cruel killer I lock deep inside. A smile plays at Bishop's own lips, an almost pathetic glare in his eyes; because despite everything he is only playing, toying with me taking glory in hitting my weaknesses. Or should I say weakness.

Amelie.

Over the past years our relationship has changed most profoundly and of no better word Amelie and I are intimates. We are everything from friends to lovers and leaving nothing in-between which is ultimately terrifying, in a wickedly thrilling way. We are perfect counterpoints, I'm most profoundly a warrior, though it never strays from my mind that I'm in truth her disgraced warrior; and she my Queen. After everything, our relationship blossomed especially after the Daylighters- we found that together we weren't only powerful; I'd missed her most profoundly in those mere weeks we spent apart due to my exile; and not just because of our wickedly unique natures but due to something deep and forever growing inside that makes me want to protect her and love her in a way I never thought myself possible to feel.

'You think too much of yourself Oliver, a flick of my wrist would see you dead upon the floor.' His smile is sickening.

'I feel I should say the same back Bishop, you are finished; your games will not work here, your wicked rule is well and truly over.' I hiss the words at him, all my anger rushing to my fingertips making it harder and harder for me to resist the urge to hurt him… but the tiny part of my common sense knows he is irrevocably our saviour from the draug- the psychic girl knew something of universal truth; something that in my early years would have seen her burnt at the stake.

I take the final step which puts me face to face with the bars, even at this distance I can feel the shiver of the silver coating reflecting on my skin- the kind of pain brought by a static sting. Amelie did not shy away from her fathers' prison, the crafted silver is of most power with the coating even at distance releasing a shock to vampire flesh. I move my hand to my pocket and bring out the eye, a large, ornate one more suited to unlocking giant old chest than the modern day structure of the cage; yet I recognise the key from previous days of battle. This key holds more purely the pain of entrapment, the lock that deserves this key is one in which can't even under vampire strength be pried open. Even against my better judgement I place the key in the lock and open the cage.

The disengaging of the lock is almost deafening.

But its Bishops' smile as he steps out the cage that makes me feel so very small and insignificant.

For the first time in a very long time, I send I slightly pray to God.

 _Please let this be the right thing to do._


	27. Chapter 27

Sorry for the delay in updates had so much on; hope this makes up for it!

Claire's pov

Shane's hand has a vice like hold on mine, as I feel sweat bead at the back of my neck. Amelie stands, as still as a carved statue next to the door; her pale pink suit seems marginally too bright against her alabaster skin. I turn my head to look at Annabelle who's protectively held to Shane's chest; her curls are wild sticking in every direction whilst even though her tears have stopped falling her eyes are bright and red- the surrounding baby fat blotchy and somehow all the more adorable. Shane's face is set into a mask, his arm around Annabelle is tensed- even in this short time Annabelle has become our child, and so our family has become all the more complicated and this fight has become all the more frightening.

'So em guys…what are we even doing?' Eve's voice carries over the room, as she relentlessly paces picking at her chipped black nails with a passion as if she wishes to break off the entire nail. 'Like this Bishop…as in Bishop!'

'Calm child.' Amelie's voice is soft but carrying. 'Your young friend's sacrifice has told me more than I can ever have understood, my Father has the ability to overcome Magnus- the power of blood makes that so.'

There is definite hope in Amelie's voice, a hope that even I know is somewhat dangerous to possess especially when it's in relation to that man. A man who has openly showed his hatred of us… of this place and especially of Amelie.

'I don't like it.' Michael's words are mine too. His tone is regretful and fierce. His whole persona gives off an entire vibe of unease.

'You don't have to like it Michael, it just has to work.'

'Amelie how can we trust him? After everything.'

'You've been a vampire Michael, you know that beyond anything my father is hated but only because of his power and bloodlust- he is the best ally we can have.'

'What a lovely sentiment Amelie.' His voice sends a shiver down my spine; he frames the door with his mass. His smile is cruel and barbaric I feel myself take an even stronger hold on Shane's hand; in my heart knowing that one false move could mean an entire massacre.

'All true Master Bishop but you'd know.'

'But still to here the words from one's blood is quite a change from telling myself.'

Oliver steps around bishop, the tails of his black leather coat flapping at his heels. He takes his place beside Amelie, stretching his hand to her so that they stand united.

'Well…' Bishop saunters over to the abandoned couch next to the draped window. 'In a time a crisis it tis I who must save it all.'

'Don't inflate your ego to much father.' Amelie's voice is empty of emotion, though her body language tells a different tale. Her calm exterior is barely hiding the obviously fearful truth inside.

'So…' I say trying to gage the fear in the room, and turn the conversation to the problem at hand.

'So…' Bishop mocks, I feel Shane's muscles tighten; I dig my nails into his hand to ward him off- we can't fight him because sadly we need him.

'We need you to help us get rid of Magnus, you're going to help; and then you can leave and it will be fine.' I sound confident, and rather bitchy all that time standing up to Monica obviously has paid off.

'But why should I help you human?'

'Because this is your kind. Vampires are going to die and even though your cold and calculated do you really want to be in such a minority group when everyone here is slaughtered because he'll come after you next and who'll be in your army?'

'You know nothing of it child.'

'I know that you'll help us.'

'You know nothing; I rule I do not get ruled.'

'This time Father you do!' Amelie's voice is like a whip; she walks across the room in silence just the tap of her stiletto heels breaking the deafening silence. She stands in front of the couch, a mere foot from Bishop. I stop breathing, my hearts pounds faster than a train in my chest.

'Don't try Amelie.'

'You forget father, I learnt this all at your knee.' The pain erupts in my head, like a vice getting tighter and tighter until all I can do is hold me head in my hands; I hear Shane's moan of pain too only for Annabelle's wail to tear me back from my own little section of hell. I look to my left to see her face scrunched up in pain; an abundance of tears cascading down her cheeks. I reach out to my little girl, as Shane tries helplessly to calm her or to take away the pain, that is only building and getting more and more outrageously agonising.

It's in this second I realise that I recognise the pain. Recognise the building of terror; an exchange of power. I have been witness twice to Amelie and Oliver and their battle for power but this is beyond that- that pain may as well of been a gentle caress this is agonising.

Amelie's squeal startles me, I look up at her and see her standing over bishop; Oliver's supporting hand on her back as his face is scrunched up in pain due to his even closer proximity. Amelie's hands are positioned on Bishop's temples; her hands bone white in the light; her face is tight with power, agony and desperation but if Amelie looks bad Bishop looks worse. He's paled a dozen shades; his hands don't seem to have the strength to grasp her back as he feebly tries to raise his hands up to hers. I watch mesmerised as Amelie lowers her face down to Bishop's, but only for seconds as the pain becomes blinding, as if the pressure of the room is concentrated into my skull.

Only a few seconds pass and the pain lifts; gone in an instant that makes me somewhat nauseous. I looked up to Shane to seem him pulling Annabelle closer, cradling her sobbing form in his arms- as his brow creases in desperation. I crawl over to him; I'm surprised to find myself (us all on the fall) I grab for Shane's arms as he pulls me into a hug- and his lips find mine crashing down to me with such honest relief. I run my hands over Annabelle checking all her perfection is still in place, feeling my heart begin to slow as Michael and Eve crawl over to us; joining forces in the security of our little corner.

Amelie's figure stands tall, though her back is now to us; Bishop is so much worse for wear he holds a shaking hand to his neck trying to stem the blood leaking from the two fang marks. Oliver stands beside Amelie, offering her a handkerchief from his pocket- it silence for a few moments only broken by our erratic breathing, and Shane's whispers to a trembling Annabelle.

'You win.' Bishop croaks.

'I always do.' Amelie says, turning to face us- a speck of blood on her lips.

'So we fight?' Oliver murmurs.

'We fight.' Amelie agrees.

'Fabulous, fabulous!' Myrnin laughs, wandering into the room. 'I hate to miss a good power struggle but anyhow…'

So we fight… but what can I even stand to lose.


	28. Chapter 28

Eve's pov

Okay so a lot has just happened, and I'm not quite sure whether it's very good- like yeah we won but something feels off and I don't know whether it's just me but I don't like how that went down. My head felt like it was going to explode, the pressure just kept building higher and higher; I honestly thought we were going to die.

Its been decided at sun-down tomorrow we'll go out there. Out there. Out into the snow topped home that was once a safe-ish place but is now like 'no-man's land' covered with unknown danger that I can only imagine. I'm scared, I know this is like nothing I've ever imagined, the draug before were terrifying but this whole new breed…somehow the mutilated thing they've became is even worse because its so wrong, so very wrong.

You'd think growing up here and fighting it all for so long would make it all a little more normal but it doesn't, if anything it makes it worse like a jack-in-the-box except each time the surprise changes and becomes a little bit more terrifying. And im tired of it now: I want to live a normal life; in a normal town; surrounded by normal people- but instead I live in the supernatural metropolis: so it's a fucked up life, a fucked up town; surrounded by a multitude of fucked up people… that's the life me and my friends have…and before all this the must fucked up thing of all is that I was beginning to love it; serves me right for hoping for the better.

I lie now on the couch in Michael's embrace trying to think past tomorrow night, trying to remember that there is a future; but its difficult we're using Bishop (that cold, calculating dominant) to try and stop another monster- Magnus. I play with my weddings bands, twirling them around and around my finger as my mind spins a fabrication of possibilities. We could all die, we could all be cold in just under twenty-four hours…or even worse some of us could die and the others would have to live with it. I couldn't live without Michael: he's the ying to my yang; the light to my darkness; he's my future. I couldn't live without knowing the others were okay; Claire and Shane are my family, we are a weird little frat and I wouldn't change it for the world, soppy I know but true. And then…and little Annabelle…she's a baby, she shouldn't have to be surrounded by this. We have to win but honestly I don't expect it, in the pit of my stomach something is telling me it's not right; that it isn't just going to be an easy win- I don't want to die, I don't want any of us too; we've fought too hard for it all to end now.

I have my Michael- I have my human Michael. I have a future, possibilities and I love it. Tomorrow night when we fight, I'm not going down with taking my chance- I have too much to lose.

'Hey guys…' Michael's voice stirs me from my mental monologue.

'Yeah.'

'Fancy a movie- just us four.'

'Dude you read my mind!'

'I'll go to kitchen and get some supplies…'

'Claire-bear wait up; we may need more than you can carry.' Even my voice sounds hollow.

'Blood and gore?' Shane shouts from beside the awkwardly placed TV.

'Really? Now is so not the time for blood and gore! Claire how can you love this guy?' I laugh.

'Hey! Don't make her question it!'

'What can I say I just love the chilli!'

'Just my Chilli Mrs Collins? You wound me.'

'Just pick a movie!' Claire's laugh is as light as air, and just as free but cracks at the end as she hurries out of our room, I catch up with her at the end of one corridor.

'Hey, you could of least waited CB.'

'Sorry…' She sniffs. 'Didn't want to…' She indicates her face, I notice the wet stream down her cheeks and the fact her eyes look overly full.

'Hey we'll be fine Claire-bear when are we not?'

'Exactly, maybe our time is up.'

'Don't say that, we can't lose it now.'

'That's just it I can't stand to lose anyone Eve… what if I lose him?' Her tears come full force, a constant stream down her cheeks.

'I know, I really know C but we can't think like that; all those other times that's all I could ever think but now its worse because we have everything to lose but we can't give up.'

'Who would of thought it, after everything we'd be fighting it again.'

'Nope not me, the jury is still out though.' Her laugh is weak but it starts me off with a giggle.

'Okay food.'

'Okay junk food.'

'We're so going to get fat.'

'At least we're harder to kidnap.' I say deadpan.

'God I love you Eve.' She laughs.

'No CB I love you more because you're the glue.'

'What?'

'You hold us together, always have since the moment your beaten up ass came through the door.'

'No I haven't; I cause the first lot of trouble.'

'No you didn't, we were already trouble- you gave us meaning; you gave Shane a reason to not be a jerk.'

'He wasn't anyway…'

'Yeah he was and Claire you made all the difference you saved us.'

'We saved each-other… more than I care to say.'

'Once more?'

'Lets hope its enough.'

That's all I can do, as I plaster on a smile and drag her down to the kitchen to raid the cupboards.


End file.
